For Even as Love Crowns You
by wizardfantasy
Summary: Set after S1E10 The Death of Wolsey. "I give you leave that we may always speak freely with each other, honestly, openly and with a true heart. For me, that is the true definition of love." What If Henry and Anne had taken this more to heart and been honest with each other? How would things have changed? Will their love destroy them, or lead them into a golden age?
1. Chapter 1

**I fell in love with this TV show a long time ago, and I have recently returned to it, in the hopes that I can retell the story of Anne and Henry if just few things had been a little different.**

 **There is some debate about when Anne was born 1501 or 1507. For the purpose of my story Anne will be born in 1507. She became Catherine's lady in waiting at about age 15 1522. Cardinal Wolsey dies in 1530, so in my story Anne is 22/23 when this story starts. Elizabeth is born in 1533 so Anne will be 25/6 at that time.**

 **Many of you will claim this is not true, or debate this. Please remember this is fanfiction, and this is the age I have chosen Anne to be.**

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" _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran_ _,_ _The Prophet_ _)_

* * *

November 1530

So this was love. It was not what I had expected. When Henry had suggested we go for a ride, I did not expect to lose my maidenhead on the outing. But he was quiet, and unresponsive as I tried to talk to him. He cantered away from me, and although I had a good seat it was difficult to keep up with him, Henry was a talented horseman. He led me into the forest not stopping to speak and shrugged his cloak to the ground.

I understood. He had finally lost his patience, I could understand why, he had given me and my family everything, and in return I had given him nothing. Except my heart. He held it completely, I was his and would be his alone, no matter what time, I belonged to him, and I accepted that. I matched, his question with my answer by removing my hat and throwing it to the ground, the passion and lust in his eyes frightened me, but I was determined to satisfy him.

I tried my best to be passionate and sexy, despite my nerves. When he entered me I felt pain but also happiness that this was with him. Granted it was not how I had imagined it, but it was with the love of my life, of that I was sure.

He pulled me to the ground on top of his cloak and pulled me on top of him, I pulled up every memory of my sister's conversations regarding sex and tried my best to move in a way she said men liked. It seemed to work as he threw his head back and gasped, he shifted slightly, and instead of pain there was pleasure. This was heaven, this was bliss, and it was with the man I loved.

Suddenly he tipped me and was over me, his full weight baring down on me. I instinctively wrapped my legs around him. He buried his head in my neck and thrusted with hard, slow movements. This wasn't as pleasurable, and was slightly painful, but I was determined to allow him whatever liberties he wanted. The way he stared at me, the way he pulled at me, and showered me with kisses, filled my heart. I would bear any pain, just to see love in his eyes. Henry, the king of England, was in love with me. His thrusts were getting harder, and he was panting in my ear.

'I'm going to come,' He whispered at me.

Suddenly I was terrified, if I got pregnant, the poor child would be illegitimate, and Henry would not love the child fully. Our children had to be legitimate, I couldn't risk them being labelled a bastard. I wouldn't raise them with that label over their head.

'No you mustn't!' I yelled and threw him off me.

His reaction was not pleasant, as he screamed in frustration. He staggered to his feet and kicked at the ground and pulled at his head. He pulled his shirt from the ground and stamped over to his horse.

This was it then, I had disappointed him. My father would be so mad with me, he would punish me. Henry was going to leave me here and I would be ruined. I sat up and tried to pull myself together, Henry was already dressed, and was checking his horse, his face was thunderous, and I could hear him swearing. I made to stand up to comfort him, but the sight of my legs stopped me.

They were streaked with blood. There on my bare legs and on Henry's cloak, was the evidence of my maidenhead. I gently prodded at myself and looked at my hand, my fingers came away scarlet. It was all for nothing, Henry would abandon me, his patience at an end. I promptly burst into tears. I was so consumed in my fear, confusion and heartbreak that I failed to hear Henry come back.

He gently moved a curl out of my face, and cupped my cheek, 'Anne?'

I couldn't look at him.

'Anne, I'm sorry for yelling, I was just frustrated, you felt so good, better than anything I had ever felt, and I so wanted to complete us both,' Henry said.

I couldn't reply as tears streaked my face and I gave big heaving sobs.

'Anne, sweetheart, my love, it is okay, I love you,' he whispered.

A handkerchief dabbed at my face, and I shook my head.

'You shouldn't see this,' I told him.

'See what my love?' he asked confused.

I hesitantly unfolded the cloak that was keeping my legs hidden, and his gaze fell on the blood of my virginity. He was utterly silent.

'I didn't think…'he said still staring at my legs in shock.

'What?' I asked wiping my hand over my face.

'You claimed you were a virgin…'

'You thought otherwise?' I asked.

His gaze shot back to my eyes and I saw the guilt in them.

'You were always so confident with your body, the way you move, and the way you act around men, as if you were aware of your power. The way you dress, so elegant yet so seductively, and your sister, and Thomas Wyatt, I just assumed…' he trailed off.

'Well you thought wrong!' I snapped and made to push him away but he clung at my shoulders and wouldn't leave.

'I'm so sorry, my love,' Henry said shamefaced 'I was willing to overlook the fact you were not a virgin, and reconciled myself to the fact that you had lied, and that was okay, but now..' he stared at me.

'And now?' I asked.

'I am sorry, forgive me for doubting you? I will never do so again,' he said sincerely.

I stared at him confused. He thought me not a virgin yet he had been willing to wait until marriage anyway, he respected me that much. And in return I had lied to him in other ways. I remember him always saying that we should be honest, for it was the definition of love. I should tell him everything. Lies lead to misunderstandings. It was as if my future played out before my eyes, and suddenly I needed him to know everything. I had no idea if he would forgive me, or not, but I had to try, otherwise I suspected our relationship, no matter how passionate would end in disaster.

'I have lied to you,' I said staring at him in the eye.

'What?' he asked frowning.

'From the beginning, when you tired of my sister, my father and uncle took me aside and bid me to get close to you,' I said.

He stared back at me with hard eyes. Saying nothing.

'My father had always been strict, I was well educated as a girl, and sent to many countries to learn as much as possible, I thought it was to give myself a better future, but it was always for his own elevation.'

'Then it was all a lie?' he asked quietly, instead of anger, heartbreak showed in his eyes.

'No!' I screamed and cupped his face with both of my hands.

'Your father and uncle arranged everything?' he asked grasping my hands and pulling them sharply away from his cheeks.

'At first yes,' I replied. 'But after a while, you wrote me such beautiful letters, you showed me your heart, and your true self, I was humbled, and I fell in love with you, you the man, not the king. But you were already taken from me, you were married to Catherine and to your country, I knew we could never be, but then you pursued me, and my father told me to hold out and not give in to you. But I would have been content to be your mistress, as long as I could be with you.'

'You love me?' He whispered tears in his eyes. 'Truly?'

'I would bid you never doubt it, for I would die for this love,' I told him passionately.

He leant forwards and kissed my cheek.

'When you did not claim me, I knew that I would forever be yours, you respected me, you would wait for me, and you wanted me to be your wife. I admit my vanity was flattered and I felt an arrogance I had never felt before.'

'You are not arrogant Anne,' Henry said bewildered.

'I have behaved so poorly, flaunting my love for you, not thinking of the consequences, not thinking of how much our love is hurting you,' I replied.

'Your love is what fills me with joy, is what reminds me that I am just a man in love with an astoundingly beautiful girl!' he told me.

'Our love could change things Henry, we both know the pope is not going to allow you a divorce, if you change things in this country, if you become the head of the church and king, I fear the displeasure of the world will fall upon us.' I whispered to him.

He pulled my head closer to him and kissed me hard on the mouth.

'I will destroy anyone who stands between us Anne, not Catherine, France, Spain, or any unknown country will make me cast you off, I am yours, and you are mine, a love this strong can only be a sign from God, that this is his want, this is his doing, together my love, we will change the world.' Henry said confidently and with passion.

'And your people?' I asked doubtfully.

'What of them?' he asked.

'They love Catherine Henry, if I replace them, they will despise me,' I said fearfully.

'They love Catherine for her kindness and charity, both of which you possess Anne, you are not an evil woman, but you have things she does not, you are English, you were born here, you are intelligent and more accomplished than any woman I have ever met. I know that if you apply yourself, you will think of a solution.' Henry replied.

His belief in me touched my soul, he was right, I was clever, and I was generous and kind. I decided I would learn more about my people, for how could I rule them if I did know not know them?

'You're also beautiful,' he continued and I stared at him, 'the most beautiful and enchanting woman I have ever beheld, your eyes bewitch and ensnare me, your skin is perfect, and your hair, I have never seen hair so lustrous and full, the way it shines red in the sun. When you smile, it is as if Aphrodite herself were amongst us. Your beauty will capture the hearts of the people, just like it did mine,' Henry said.

I blushed, I had always been told I was pretty, but no one had ever lavished such compliments on me before.

'I love you,' I told him tears prickling my eyes.

'I love you sweet heart,' and he rubbed my nose with his making me giggle.

I went to stand but he stopped me.

'Wait.'

With his handkerchief he wiped at my legs removing the blood. I gasped and attempted to stop him but he would have none of it.

'This is the most precious gift anyone has given me, and I am ashamed it happened as it did. This will be my reminder that I can never take you for granted.'

I let him finish, and then I stood and he also folded his cloak which was blood stained, and put it in his saddlebag to keep safe. I knew it would go with his handkerchief somewhere safe as proof of my virginity.

I awkwardly bent to retrieve my clothes but gasped at the sensation between my legs. I was quite sore.

'Sweetheart!' Henry exclaimed at seeing my pain 'what a beast I was.' He said shame faced.

'No,' I replied taking his hand 'it was perfect because it was with you and it led to us having this understanding.'

'I still should not have been so rough, next time, I will make it up to you my angel,' he promised kissing my hand.

He retrieved my clothes for me, all the while admiring my still naked body, only dressed in my riding boots.

'I would have you painted like this, but then I would have to kill the painter for daring to look upon you,' he said staring at my body with passion.

'I am yours.'

'Then I am most fortunate,' he answered.

He surprised me by helping me dress, and lifted me onto his own horse, tying mine to his. He mounted behind me and his arms enfolded me as he kicked, his mount into a slow walk. The way back to court, was filled with conversation, deep and meaningful, and I felt as if my heart would burst for this man. He had forgiven me, and I him, and now I felt as if we were closer than ever, as if finally, we were truly one.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the feedback guys!**

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" _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth."_

(Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)

* * *

Upon nearing Whitehall Anne balked.

'Henry people will see us,' Anne whispered back at him.

'Let them see, I am not ashamed,' Henry said back proudly.

Anne leaned back to look at him in the eye, he was so fearless, and proud, that her heart swelled.

'Neither am I,' Anne replied, 'but I don't exactly look decent,' she said gesturing to her hair and rumpled appearance.

'You look beautiful to me,' the king said kissing her hair.

'I don't want people to speculate, or worse call me a whore,' Anne said quietly looking down at the saddle.

'Anyone who does, will find themselves short of a head,' Henry replied.

'Please?' Anne asked. Henry sighed and knew that he was powerless against her, anything she wanted he would give her.

'I know a way, when I was a boy,' Henry replied.

Henry took them on a winding path through the streets of London, up through the back fields where the labourers worked and through a side door of the palace that led to the servant's quarters, the ones who were fortunate enough to have rooms in the palace.

'Do I want to know, why you needed such an escape route?' Anne asked cheekily, as he pulled her through the corridors.

'My father was strict on mine and Arthur's education, he hired tutors that were as cruel as they were clever,' Henry said gravely.

Anne was astonished, Henry had never talked about his childhood before, and she had been afraid to ask, fearing it was not her place. Their new found understanding seemed to have opened another door in their relationship, giving a deeper intimacy that thrilled her.

'When we got something wrong, we were smacked, with a wooden rod, Arthur sometimes a metal one, for he was heir, and had more was expected of him.' Henry carried on.

'I don't believe in punishing children in that way,' Anne said.

'Nor I,' Henry replied stopping and turning to face her, 'I do not believe it encourages intelligence, I tried to make sure Mary had good tutors, but Catherine insisted on Spanish tutors, and she insisted that Mary would learn more this way.'

'You gave in?' Anne asked.

'I loved Catherine at one point, or so I thought, I tried to keep her happy, I realise now that I have never really known love, lust yes, passion certainly, but until I met you, love has been a mystery to me,' Henry said sincerely gazing deep into Anne's alluring blue eyes.

'Our children will not know your pain Henry,' Anne said cupping his face.

'Our children,' Henry agreed kissing her lips gently.

'What was Arthur like?' Anne asked daringly.

'Kind, shy, humble, everything I am not,' Henry snorted.

'Don't say such things,' Anne admonished.

'He loved me a lot, he would try to take our tutors attention from me by asking them questions so I could escape into the fields, to play, through this very route,' Henry replied. 'As a result I was much more athletic than him, the tutors often called me a brighter child as well, but Arthur never succumbed to jealously, he was simply proud of me.'

'That was brave of him,' Anne noted.

'Yes, he would have been a much better king than me,' Henry said sullenly.

'Where is this melancholy coming from?' Anne asked, 'the people love you.'

'I should take more notice of them,' Henry replied.

'Together we can do much,' Anne said.

'Together.'

They continued on and up a small staircase that led onto the main rooms of the household, stopping every now and again to avoid servants. It was fun and childish, but Anne relished the innocence and joy of simply being together.

'You are not taking me to my rooms,' she noted.

'Of course not,' Henry replied.

'I cannot go to yours,' Anne exclaimed.

'Although, I did not take your maidenhead in the proper way Anne, I am determined to make it up to you. You will stay in my bed,' Henry stated.

This was unheard of, a king allowing a lady in his room, a king always visited the wife in her own bed. By letting her in his rooms, he was showing her a depth of trust that astonished her.

'Henry you do not have to,' Anne said.

'I want to,' he replied.

Anne smiled and was willingly pulled along until he came to his doors. There were guards posted at the doors, Anne hid behind an alcove whilst Henry strolled forwards, grinning as the relaxed guards suddenly stiffened and snapped to attention.

'Your majesty!' they exclaimed bowing.

'I am back from my ride, I require a bath and dinner to be brought to me at once,' Henry ordered.

Anne watched as they immediately snapped to and ran from their posts. It was servants work, but they took no notice in their haste to obey. Henry turned to her with childish glee and beckoned. Anne crept forwards giggling silently, and was pulled into his rooms.

He immediately pushed her up against the closed doors, and buried both his hands in her hair and kissed her thoroughly. Anne moaned and kissed back unable to resist him. He was a handsome athletic man, and he was hers. The power made her heady. He lifted her leg and she gasped at the soreness between her legs.

Henry immediately pulled away looking guilty. 'I am sorry my love, just having you in here, sets my blood afire.'

Anne giggled and kissed his cheek, 'I am not offended my love.'

Henry grinned in reply and led her further into his rooms. They were beautiful and ornate as expected, but they showed his personality and character, which he allowed few to know. Books, were strewn around, indicating his scholarly tendencies. There were instruments too, Henry was a talented musician, proven by his many compositions which were played often in court. His walls had paintings by various artists. Henry was well cultured and educated and it showed.

His belongings were neat on the whole, and indicated his steadfast character, the colours were slightly solemn however for Anne's taste, who preferred more beautiful and fanciful decorations that the French favoured. His rooms, were very dark and masculine. Anne feverishly hoped she could introduce Henry to the more beautiful side of life, which he clearly lacked from Catherine.

Anne turned back to look upon the king and saw him staring at her almost warily. She realised with a start he was embarrassed and waiting for her approval.

'Thank you for bringing me here,' Anne replied.

'Do you like it?' Henry asked.

'Yes, I see the man in you here, not the king, however it is slightly dark for my taste,' Anne told him honestly.

'That was Catherine's doing, when she became queen she insisted all the rooms be decorated in less lavish colours.' Henry replied.

'And you let her?' Anne asked astonished.

Henry sighed and sank onto the nearest plush seat, and beckoned Anne closer to him.

'I was awed by Catherine, she was the daughter of kings, and she was older than me, raised to be a queen, I was always a spare, I heeded her advice in most things,' Henry said.

'Then what happened?' Anne asked intrigued.

'I grew up, I became more confident, I realised how dull she was, how unsuited we were, but I respected her too much to be rid of her.' Henry asked.

'And now?' Anne asked wondering what had changed.

'We had so many still born children, boys that lasted a few weeks, then died. After my little Henry died, I fully believe it was and still is God's way of punishing me Anne, I married my brother's wife!' Henry exclaimed.

'So…' Anne started then stopped.

'Yes?' Henry questioned.

Anne was determined to be honest like they had claimed to be to each other 'It is not just an excuse to marry me?'

'Of course not!' Henry exclaimed.

'I am worried,' Anne replied sighing.

'About what my love?' Henry asked.

'What if we have no children, what if we only have girls, what if I miscarry, I could not bear to lose your love Henry,' Anne said honestly.

Henry looked at Anne glowing in the firelight and considered her words. It was true he wanted a son more than anything in the world. But with a start he realised that was not quite true anymore. What he wanted more than anything was Anne, and her love, to be married, and to experience true partnership with a woman that could be his equal. He needed to make a choice, between Anne, and his want for an heir.

He saw his life before him, the endless quest to have a son. His obsession would lead to tyranny and broken hearts in his wake. Wife after wife, mistress after mistress, looking for that obscure something, that he had with Anne, the passion, the heat, the love and lust, the joy of knowing you had found your perfect match. No he decided, he would not give that up for an heir. In the worst case and he and Anne were not blessed then Mary would succeed. But he knew he would not be that unlucky, his and Anne's love was a gift from god, he would not leave them childless.

'You will never lose my love Anne, it is true I want a son, but I will not lose myself, and us to that obsession. I can and will be content,' Henry said.

Anne stared at him in shock, a week ago she would not have believed this of him. Her love had so fundamentally changed him that he would give up his chance for an heir and a legacy just to be with her.

'Together Anne, we will find our immortality, we will be the best rulers England has ever seen, and we will lead the people into a golden age, which will be talked about for centuries,' Henry said.

'I want that,' Anne said passionately slipping off of her chair and kneeling by his side clasping his hands.

'Then I will give it to you my love,' Henry laughed.

Anne stifled a yawn, and Henry bent and picked her up causing Anne to gasp out loud, he brought her into his bedchamber and sat her upon his bed.

'Rest, I will call you when your bath is ready,' Henry said.

'Henry what if someone asks where I am?' Anne said worried.

'I will send a message to your father telling him you are with me, he at least will not talk to anyone,' Henry replied.

'No,' Anne agreed frowning at the thought of her father. The pain must have shown in her eyes for Henry asked...

'Do you want me to banish him?' Henry asked.

'No,' Anne replied, 'his fault is his ambition, but I still love him, and hope one day he will love me for me and not for the opportunities I can bring him.'

Henry kissed Anne on the head, and whispered that he would be back shortly.

Anne took in her unfamiliar surroundings, she was on the bed of a king, in the same room, that previous kings had resided in. She would never have believed that she, a commoner, would one day be here. This love, this passion, had brought about so many changes in her life, she hoped these changes would be for good, and she would not lose herself along the way.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the comments people!**

* * *

" _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran_ _,_ _The Prophet_ _)_

* * *

I let Anne rest whilst her bath was drawn, I considered going back and lying beside her, but decided to let her be. After everything, I bet she needed some privacy. When I and Anne had ridden out earlier that day I never would have dreamed that such revelations would have come about.

I wanted to destroy Rochford and Norfolk, how dare they assume to manipulate me? How dare they manipulate Anne? Granted it had worked out splendidly, but with one failure, Anne had fallen in love with me as deeply as I had her. Now I knew about their schemes, I would not allow them to take advantage of her or me ever again. Things would be different from now on, Thomas More had a point with his idealism that girls should be educated, I was thankful Anne was so well educated and clever, we would make a great team.

'Your majesty,' a servant said.

'What is it?' I asked.

'Your bath is ready, shall I fetch for your manservant?' he asked.

'No!' I said rather vehemently, I didn't want anyone seeing Anne naked.

The servant appeared confused by my anger and I suddenly remembered, no one knew she was in here. I cursed myself for being a dullard and hastened to explain.

'I require time alone with my thoughts,' I said.

'Of course your majesty,' he replied, bowing and backed out of the door.

I went through into my washroom, where a bath had been drawn close to the fire. I went back into my bedroom to find Anne asleep on my bed. The sight of her nearly undid me. She had taken off her riding clothes, and lay on my bed naked as the day she was born. Her hair billowed around her onto the many pillows, like a halo of darkness. The firelight gave it red hues, and her lips were slightly parted as she breathed deeply. Her body was perfect, if I could have described my ideal of a woman's body it would have been hers. She was perfectly toned with legs that went on for years. They were perfect, long and shapely, from all of her dancing. Her stomach was flat and curved inwards into perfect hips that melted up into breasts that lifted so invitingly with every single breath.

She was magnificent. No one would ever match her. I had to have her as mine, she needed to be my wife. I wanted everyone to gaze at her, and know that she was mine and mine alone. I strolled over slowly and gently ran a finger around the curve of her breast. She stirred and smiled up at me.

'Your bath is ready my love,' I said leaning down to kiss her. 'You are so tempting.'

She blushed and smiled at me, 'As are you.'

'Really?' I asked.

No one had ever called me handsome, I knew I was a fairly good looking man, athletic and well built, however the women I had slept with had never commented. Perhaps it was out of fear, perhaps because they thought I already knew my own looks. I had never really considered it before, but Anne made me feel ordinary, just a man in love with the most beautiful girl on earth, I realised I wanted her to like my looks.

Anne frowned in confusion but as she examined me she seemed to understand. She stood up off of the bed and walked into my arms. Her hair cascaded down her back, and she was the picture of the alluring temptress.

'You are perfect to me,' Anne replied 'The definition of handsome, and I want you.'

Boldly she grasped my hand and drew it between her legs, I felt her slickness and I gasped. The evidence of her desire struck me and I wanted nothing more than to pin her to my bed and take her like I had never taken another.

But I would wait, she deserved that.

'Stop my temptress, before your drive me to distraction,' I gasped.

She giggled and drew my hand away, but not before pulling my finger to her mouth and sucking on it, and grazing her teeth along the digit. I was shocked, she had been a virgin, until today, yet here she was doing such things to me. And she was all mine, my body hardened and I yearned to take her.

'What you do to me,' she whispered at me staring up at me between her lashes.

'Come,' I replied turning and pulling her out of the room. I had to get control of myself.

I took her into my washroom, where she gasped upon seeing the tub.

'What is it?' I asked.

'I've never seen such a large tub before,' she said smiling indulgently.

'Well I shall have one ordered for you,' I said. I would give her anything she desired.

She beamed at me in reply, and I gently helped her into the water, forcing my body to calm as she groaned with pleasure from the heat. What I would do to make more sounds come from those lips. I knelt down next to the tub as she relaxed.

'Henry you should not kneel,' she admonished.

'Every man, no matter his station, should kneel before you,' I replied gazing into her orbs.

She blushed again before looking down. She tiled her head back until her long locks were saturated, and I handed her the scented soap, to wash herself with. I knew she wouldn't let me do it for her, she would not want me to be a servant, even though I would have relished the task.

She was so stunning with the water dripping off her body, and her tresses appeared black against her pale skin, making her glowing eyes even more prominent.

'You are staring,' she admonished.

'How can I not when such beauty is before me,' I replied genuinely.

'You are almost poetic Henry,' she laughed.

The thought of poetry brought to mind Thomas Wyatt. Wolsey had told me he had loved her, and there had been a relationship between the two. Had pursuing me on her father's orders meant that she had to give him up? I was resolved to push back my jealousy, but I had to know.

'You like poetry yes?' I asked.

'Of course, poetry puts into words that which emotion cannot,' she replied.

'You liked Mr Wyatt's poems?' I asked quietly. She stared back at me.

'What are you asking Henry?' She asked.

'Did you love him?' I asked dreading the answer.

She sighed and looked down considering, before gazing back at me with honest eyes.

'Thomas pursued me, and I was flattered by his attentions and his words. He would often visit me unchaperoned, which led to rumours. My own fault I suppose. But my Father did nothing to prevent it, making me think I was doing nothing wrong, I was so young and vulnerable I didn't know I did wrong. I thought it was harmless to spend time with a handsome man who flattered me, and said such lovely words to me.' She said.

Her father did not deserve the title. Only my love for her was keeping him alive right now.

'After a while, his attentions became more serious, and he stole some kisses from me. But I knew he was married so I resisted any other attempts to deepen the relationship. He told me he was going to divorce, but I knew he was too proud to risk the scandal. My rejection, heightened his obsession until I had to make him leave.'

'So you didn't love him?' I asked again needing the assurance.

'No I did not, nor any other man, in France, in Germany, I have never known love until you Henry, my prince, my king,' she told me sincerely raising a wet hand to cup my cheek.

'Your father should have been more diligent,' I said.

'Yes, he should have, and because of that my sister is called the great prostitute,' Anne said miserably.

'I'm sorry,' I said guiltily.

'My sister went to your bed willingly Henry, with Father refusing to check her she relished in lust and wantonness, she didn't care for the names people called her. But when you cast her off, she finally realised what she and my Father brought upon her. No man would have her.' Anne replied.

'I will be a most diligent father to our daughters, if god should bless us with one,' I said.

'You would not mind a daughter?' Anne questioned.

Again she worried that my wrath would descend if she failed to give me boys. I hated myself for this fear I had put in her.

'I would only be concerned with how I would cope with having two beautiful girls, who would have me wrapped round their fingers,' I joked, and rejoiced in her laughter.

'I would like a girl,' Anne shyly admitted.

'Then I shall do my best to accommodate you my lady,' I joked again to more gales of laughter. When Anne smiled she really was stunning.

She proclaimed herself finished, and I helped her out of the water and dried her, much to her complaints that I shouldn't. But I enjoyed the task thoroughly, paying extra attention to the areas I found most pleasing. It was a long time before I proclaimed her officially dry.

We went to bed naked, and I held her close to me and relished the opportunity to hold her this close to me. I could not wait for marriage. I resolved to sort out my great matter with a greater sense of urgency. I would strive to be proclaimed head of the Church of England, I would get my divorce, and would bring about an England that would be free of superstition, greed, and corruption. Anne had opened my eyes to the evils of Catholicism. The amount of money the monasteries stole from people, the way they paraded their wealth before the people. Christ had damned wealth, and I was determined that I would use my fortune to better the lives of my people. I would educate them, encourage them to do better.

'Henry?' Anne asked from where her head was perched on my chest.

'Yes my darling?' I asked.

'What about your manservants? When they come in the morning, they will see me,' Anne exclaimed.

'My servants know that talk, or gossip would result in them being a head shorter, my love, they are loyal and will not gossip.' I replied confidently.

I was generous in the wages I paid my servants, and I treated them at Christmas, and ensured they were well taken care of. I had their respect and loyalty, of that I was sure.

'Okay,' Anne replied.

'Tomorrow I will change things Anne, we will not wait any longer,' I said.

'Then tomorrow I will start too,' Anne replied.

'Start what?' I asked.

'I will win the favour of the people, I will not go to court but I will go out and meet them, talk to them, see their children, find out who they are, what their living situations are, see if I can help,' She told me sincerely.

I knew she genuinely cared, she herself had been a commoner, although she was not poor, she believed herself to be of low origin. These roots would help, and her charity, kindness and beauty would win over even the most stubborn of hearts.

'You will take Brandon with you as protection,' I replied. I would not risk her safety.

She frowned in reply, 'I don't think that is wise.'

'Brandon will be most accommodating,' I promised.

'Henry he hates me, and my family, surely you can see that,' Anne said.

'Nonsense, he's simply not used to change,' I replied. Charles was my closest friend, and although I knew he was not fond of Anne, I knew he did not hate her.

'Please Henry, someone else I beg of you,' she asked me with wide eyes.

I was confused by her insistence, but I would never make her feel uncomfortable if I could help it.

'What about Sir Anthony then?' I asked thinking of my other loyal friend. We were not as close, but I loved him and knew he would protect my love.

'Yes that would suit,' Anne replied relief showing on her face.

She settled back down to sleep. I would have to resolve the issue with Brandon at some point. I would not have him slating or criticising Anne no matter our friendship. She was the most important. She made me the most happy.

* * *

 **Sock it to me!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here we go!**

* * *

" _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you_ ** _._**

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran_ _,_ _The Prophet_ _)_

* * *

When I woke, I was alarmed. The walls were unfamiliar and I was strangely hot. A soft snore made me jolt upwards as I turned around to assess the noise. The sleeping visage of the king struck me, and everything came back to me, the woods, the passion, and the explanations. And now here I was sleeping in a king's bed.

He looked so ordinary when asleep, that is not to see he was ordinary looking, far from it. But rather when he was asleep, he could have been just another man. His intelligence, his carriage, his rich persona was resting, the king was asleep, and only the man remained. The man I loved with all my heart. I ran my fingers through his short red hair, and grinned as he shivered in response.

I was unsure as to what to do, usually my servants, Nan and Madge would waltz in a lively manner, asking how I was and my plans for the day. We would gush over my wardrobe, and decide how best to ornament my hair. But I was in a man's domain, and my ladies were nowhere in sight.

Unsure of what to do, I carefully got out of the large bed and found my underclothes on the back of a chair, I struggled to dress myself, but managed somehow. Clad in my underclothes I went into Henry's main drawing room, and had a closer inspection of his belongings. I was first drawn to his books, and was happy to see the ones I gave him, open and looking worn. I was happy he was embracing the true religion, although I dreaded how the catholic followers would react. I had heard of Thomas More extreme methods, of burning.

He claimed to be a humanist, yet he was murdering people simply for the differing beliefs. I wasn't as blinded, I understood that people would believe in different things. It was wrong for priests and cardinals to teach one strict religion. People's lives were vastly different, how could the different classes follow doctrine, when they often didn't have the ways or the means too? Few people spoke Latin, therefore they relied on corrupt men to teach them views that weren't their own. I fully believed that people should be allowed to draw their own conclusions from the bible, to find their own truth, and beliefs. We all believed in god, everything else was just semantics.

'My lady?' a shocked voice brought me out of my musings and I turned to survey a servant who I guessed was Henry's valet, who was accompanied by other servants carrying what looked like breakfast.

I felt extremely awkward but forced myself to raise my head highly, and smile politely back at the servants.

'Good morning,' I said.

'His majesty…'the servant started confusedly.

'What is your name?' I asked nervously running a hand through my hair.

'Stafford, Mark Stafford if it please you my lady,' he responded.

'Well, Mark, the king has not yet risen, if you would please be so kind as to lay out his breakfast and possibly do me a favour?' I asked.

'Of course my lady?' Mark replied.

'I'm sure by now, my ladies are wondering where I am and are about to sound the alarm, if you could go to my chambers and ask for Nan Saville, instruct her to bring me my attire for the day?' I asked.

'Of course my lady, only…'he veered off uncertainly.

'Yes?' I enquired encouragingly.

'The king will be displeased if I am not here to serve him,' Mark replied eyes downcast.

'Do not worry, I will inform the king of your whereabouts and that you will be back shortly,' I said,

'Very well my lady,' He replied.

He gestured to the other servants who quickly started laying Henry's table with his breakfast. One moved into the king's chamber, where I assumed he would be drawing the curtains and drawing a fire. I stood uncertainly myself, and Mark the kind boy seemed to take pity on me and gestured to the fruit he had brought in.

'You should try the fruit my lady, cook says it was brought in fresh this morning,' Mark said bowing slightly before leaving on my errand.

I nervously sat down at the table, and examined the lavish spread, Henry had a healthy appetite, and had his choice of food. I helped myself to the fruit, slicing the apples and pears I selected into sections. I glanced nervously around the room, as his attendants stood back against the wall with blank reserved faces. They didn't even glance in my direction, I slowly grew a bit more confident that the king was right, and they would not gossip.

'There you are,' Henry exclaimed.

Anxious of the other people I quickly got to my feet and gave a low graceful curtsey.

'Your majesty, good morning,' I said with my eyes demurely lowered.

Henry snorted in reply and pulled me up against him giving me a kiss. He was freshly washed and shaven although still in his nightshirt, as his valet had gone away.

'Have you seen Stafford?' He asked.

'Yes I sent him to fetch my maid, if that is okay?' I asked.

'Of course,' Henry replied, surveying me curiously. 'Anne one of the things I love about you is how unreserved you are in my presence don't allow my household to turn you meek.'

I laughed and straightened my shoulders and kissed his smooth cheek, 'Of course not.'

'This is strange,' Henry said seating himself.

'Us being together here? I asked.

'That, and the fact I've never seen you look anything less than perfect,' he laughed gesturing to me.

I nervously patted at my hair, and shuffled down in the chair. I freely admitted one of my faults was vanity, I wanted the man I loved to find me beautiful.

'It's not a bad thing,' Henry assured me reaching out to grasp my hand over the table. 'On the contrary, it comforts me that you are attainable, that you are not so far above me.'

'Me above you? You're a king Henry,' I said taken aback.

'And you are truly a queen above men and women Anne, your beauty and intelligence far outweighs my own,' Henry said.

'I am yours, my love' I repeated.

'Then I am most happy,' Henry laughed, and I giggled at the use of my family motto.

A knock sounded on the outer door, and henry bid them enter. Mark arrived with Madge and Nan, who immediately bowed and curtseyed. This was rather amusing seeing as my ladies arms were full of my belongings.

'Ah, ladies, Stafford,' Henry bid them rise, and I watched as Nan and Madge stared at the king in shock and awe, 'I trust that you will keep this to yourself, I am sure you can understand what would happen, should word of this get out.'

I watched their expressions change to fear and hastened to reassure them 'Your majesty should have no cause for alarm, my ladies are as discreet as they are loyal.'

'Of course,' Henry said.

We all stared at each other uncertain as to where to start. It would have been funny under different circumstances. I quickly thought of a solution.

'I will ready myself in your majesties wash room, if that would suit?' I asked.

'Of course,' Henry replied bowing his head, 'if you have need of anything let me know.'

I curtseyed and turned head held high despite my appearance and made my way into the antechamber. My ladies rushed in behind me. The minute the door was closed, they fired off with questions.

'Oh my lady, you have become his mistress?!' Nan exclaimed.

'Your father will be so mad' Madge joined in.

'What if you get pregnant?' Nan said again.

'Ladies relax,' I calmed them resting a hand on each of their shoulders. 'I and his majesty have come to a new understanding, and a new sense of belonging. I am not to be his mistress, but still I will become his Queen. Only now I have told him everything, there is to be no more secrets between us, only love and honesty for the rest of our days.'

'That's wonderful!' They both exclaimed. I was so lucky to have such loyal servants who genuinely cared about my happiness, and I theirs. I resolved that this would be the same for my people too.

'Come, my lady we must get you cleaned up,' Nan said examining my hair.

They set to work on their routines, luckily they had brought everything with them they might have needed. Nan separated my curls, until it hung in long glistening curls down my back. I was strapped into my gold dress, in the French style I so favoured. And through my hair they weaved tiny golden flowers connected on strings. I had always disliked the bulky headdresses worn by courtiers in Spain and some in England. I preferred my hair to be on show for all to see, it was apparently considered lustful and wonton, but I took no notice of their opinions. Catherine wore the Spanish and English styles, and the king thought her dull, I would not dress remotely similar to her. Whereas she was dark, and proper, I would be light, and lustrous. Beauty was not a sin.

'I am to go into the lower town today,' I told my ladies who paused in their tasks.

'Whatever for my lady?' Nan asked whilst holding earrings up to my ears to survey the result in the mirror.

'The people are soon to become my subjects, how can I rule them if I do not know them, or they me?' I asked

'Is that a safe idea?' Nan asked again, her concern touched me.

'People are not inherently evil, Nan, they may not like me, but I know they will not hurt me. I am determined that I will not be a hated Queen.' I said resolutely.

'Then we will come with you, my lady,' Madge said.

'Sir Anthony will also follow us at a discreet distance,' I said observing as Madge blushed.

'Not too far a distance I hope,' Nan said laughing and nudging Madge.

'Thank heavens the king did not suggest the Duke of Suffolk,' Madge said.

'He did suggest it, I asked him to change his mind,' I replied.

'What did you tell him?' Nan asked.

'Simply that he does not like me,' I said.

'He is the king's oldest friend, my lady, you should be weary,' Nan cautioned.

'I know, that is why I don't want to associate with him any more than I have to, I don't want to give him anything that he can twist and tell to Henry,' I said.

'Do you think, he'd believe you over him?' Nan asked.

'A week ago I would have said no, but after yesterday…'I blushed and veered off, whilst they laughed in reply.

'But I will not sink so low as to make Henry give up his friend, as long as he keeps his distance from me, then I will be content,' I said.

'That is good of you my lady,' Madge said.

'Yes, I am resolved to act on my own opinions from now on, and not those of my fathers,' I replied.

I stepped out of the chair and looked in the mirror surveying myself. My sister had always been told she was pretty, where as I had never received many compliments growing up. When I asked my father why, he told me to stop being vain. _'You know you are beautiful Anne, let your sister have some praise.'_ Everyone simply took it for granted that I knew I was attractive. Everyone always complimented my intelligence and wit, but my beauty, was apparently so obvious it was never remarked upon.

When I had gone to France and Burgundy that had changed, men stared at me, asked for my favours, attempted to court me. By then I knew what they called my sister, I assumed they wanted the same from me. I would not give in to the mystery of lust, I resolved to guard my maidenhead vigilantly knowing that one day it would be an important gift to the man I loved. I had briefly considered giving it to Thomas, but because he was married it did not feel right. Henry was married too, but the love I felt for him overcame my resolution. I did not regret it, for it had brought about our new understanding. It had been worth saving and refraining from temptation.

I left the room and stepped back into the drawing room, to find Henry already dressed and waiting.

'Beautiful,' he said bowing over my hand. I smiled in response, and surveyed his now kingly stance. I felt proud that I knew the man beneath the pomp and circumstance. He trusted me and me alone to know him.

'I will be away with my council today,' Henry said.

'Very well,' I replied.

'Will you be in court?' he asked.

'No, I am going into town, 'I reminded him.

'Ah, yes, I will send for Anthony presently and have him meet you,' Henry replied.

'Thank you your majesty,' I curtsied as was expected in company.

'Be safe, and I will see you for dinner later?' he asked.

'Of course, I would like that,' I smiled.

'Until later my love,' he kissed my hand and my cheek, then stared at me for a few moments before turning and leaving the room.

I turned to my ladies who were beaming at me.

'Come,' I said 'We have work to do.'

* * *

 **There we are. So how will the people greet Anne next?**

 **Let me know your thoughts!**


	5. Chapter 5

" _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran_ _,_ _The Prophet_ _)_

 **Here we go!**

* * *

Anthony seemed genuinely glad to see me, as he followed me out the main gates and into the town. He was a cheerful handsome man, and seemed less of a boy than what Brandon was. He treated my ladies with respect as well, asking after their health, and letting them proceed him. I suppose he lacked the flair, and charm Brandon had, but he had none of his cynicism on the other hand. He seemed genuinely devoted to his King with no ulterior motive.

'I am sorry to have burdened you with what must be a boring duty sir Anthony,' I said turning to look back at him.

'On the contrary mistress Anne, I am accompanying three beautiful young ladies, I am not in court, and it is a beautiful day,' He said smiling at me.

'You dislike court?' I asked beckoning him to walk beside me.

'In all honesty yes, I do,' Anthony replied. 'It is full of schemers all vying for power, and the King's grace, I did too at one point, but I found it much too dangerous for my liking.'

I was heartened by his honesty, 'Yes I can see your point.'

'Really?' He asked raising his eyebrow 'You seem to navigate it beautifully.'

'Years of practice and an ambitious father,' I told him.

'Ah,' he replied.

'May I ask you something?' I asked.

'Of course my lady,' he replied.

'Do you like me?' I asked.

He stopped suddenly and turned to survey me. My ladies had kept their distance giving me privacy, and I was forever thankful for the discretion.

'What does my opinion matter to you, Lady Anne?' Anthony asked bemused.

'You are the Kings friend, I love his majesty, our relationship would be a lot easier with the support of his friends,' I said turning and starting walking again.

'My lady, forgive me but I do not know you enough one way or another to like or dislike you,' Anthony said bluntly.

Well at least he wasn't openly hostile like Brandon and his new wife.

'I will say, that you make Henry smile in a way I have never seen before, you make him happy, which is I believe a point in your favour,' Anthony said smiling.

'Thank you,' I told him sincerely.

'What is your sudden concern?' He asked curiously.

'If I am to marry his majesty, then I must gain the support of the people and his friends, his grace the Duke of Suffolk is a hopeless cause, I hoped you would not be so prejudiced.'

'Ah Brandon,' Anthony said frowning.

'You dislike him?' I asked shocked, thinking they were close friends.

'He is Henry's closest friend, but I believe he places too much value in him,' he replied.

'How so?' I asked.

'He creates him a Duke in order to protect his sister and take her to Portugal, how does he respond? By marrying her and betraying him. Instead of begging his forgiveness, he has to be manipulated into it by –excuse me- your father.'

'I see,'

'He neglects his wife even as she loves him, and she dies from consumption I believe caused mainly by her grief of his lack of love for her and his betrayals. He was in part the cause of the death of the King's sister, and is only saved by a whisper in his majesty's ear by Wolsey. He is made head of his council, but leaves the task to Norfolk, and pursues his ward who he was meant to protect not bed.' He continued.

'Henry does seem to be blind to his faults,' I agreed.

'Everyone has faults, but I believe Henry's trust is misplaced in Brandon, he is too much of a child for the responsibility and honour Henry has given him. Yet they were childhood friends, and Henry himself never expected to become king,' Anthony explained.

'Yes it is something we have in common, I never expected to become Queen, and Henry never King, others were meant to be in our position, were born for it, it would seem. I wonder if we will forever be actors in a masque who have forgotten their lines and have to improvise,' I said.

'You have a talent for expression mistress Anne,' he complimented.

'Thank you,' I said blushing and nervously brushed my hair backwards.

'May I ask a question now?' Anthony asked.

'Of course,' I replied.

'Do you love him?' He said stepping front of me to stop my pace and stare into my eyes searching for truth.

'More than my own life,' I told him passionately.

'So your father is not manipulating you?' he asked, at one point I would have been offended by his boldness, but no longer.

'At one point yes, but Henry has a way of creeping into people's hearts and ensnaring them,' I replied.

'Does he know?' Anthony asked.

'About my father, yes, I told him about it.'

'That was brave of you,' he remarked.

'What less can I do for love? I responded and stepped around him to continue on.

We walked further and further into London, and I noticed the further we went the worse the conditions got. I had a place in mind where I was going. I stopped along the way in certain shops and bought several items much to the confusion of my ladies, who were burdened with my purchases. Anthony although he offered to carry them, I told him not too, if he had to protect us, god forbid, then his hands should not be full.

'Where exactly are we headed my lady?' Anthony asked.

'It is not much further,' I reassured him.

Along the way I saw many curious faces stare back at me. The people were astonished I was in this part of town, but I held my head high and smiled at them. The beggars who lined the street, I did not ignore and reached into one of the baskets Nan carried and gave them a loaf of bread. They thanked me, and although I knew it would not solve their problems, I was happier knowing I had eased their suffering somewhat.

At last I arrived at a worn down building, the stone looked to be crumbling, and the roof was missing in places. The sign at the door read it was an orphanage. I stepped inside and was hit with the smell of unwashed bodies. A harassed and shocked lady seemed startled by my presence and nervously curtsied making me laugh.

'I am not royalty gentle lady,' I told her stepping forwards.

'No of course not forgive me,' she said nervously. 'I am Jane Marland.'

'I am Anne Boleyn,' I replied and introduced Anthony and my ladies.

'May I see the children?' I asked.

'Of course my lady,' she said and nervously led the way.

It was cold in the building, the corridors were slim and there were buckets on the floor filled with rain water that had found its way through the roof. Some rooms we passed lacked doors, and I spied improvised beds made up of handfuls of straw and dirty rags for covers.

I was led into a great hall where children were scattered around, skinny and small, and lacking proper clothes. Some had no shoes, and most were dirty and unwashed. They all bore looks of sadness and hunger that should never be present on a child. My heart was moved.

'My lady?' Nan whispered horrified at the sight of them.

'Hush,' I consoled them. I bid her, Anthony and Madge to stay put and I made my way into the middle of the stone floor.

'Your dress my lady!' Jane startled looking in dismay at the dirty floor.

'It is no matter,' I assured her.

Slowly the children gathered round me, with curious gazes. I felt a slight pull and looked down to see a small girl with dirty blonde hair pull at my dress and rub her hands wonderingly along the silk. I smiled in encouragement and bent to pick her up and place her on my hip. She stared at me with wide eyes, and reach a grimy hand out to touch the golden flowers in my hair.

'Pretty!' she declared in a childish voice.

'Yes you are precious,' I laughed at her and kissed her cheek.

I sat down uncaring of the dirt, or the lack of chairs and placed the girl in my lap. The others followed and before long I had all the children sat around me.

'What is your name?' I asked the girl.

'Anne,' she replied.

'That is my name too!' I exclaimed, and watched as her childish eyes widened at the coincidence. It was a common name, but she didn't need to know that.

'But I'm not as pretty as you,' she told me reaching out to my dress again.

'You are all prettier than me, and far braver,' I told them all.

Slowly they started asking me questions, childish questions about my life…if I had a husband, where I lived, what I ate. Their voices filled with longing. I replied to all of them and took an interest, I asked them about their parents. Some had been abandoned at birth, others their mothers died and fathers had abandoned them. Some lost their parents to the sweat that nearly took my own life. Yet despite this they all had not given up, they were fighters, and like me, would persevere.

'I have presents for you,' I told them all.

I gestured to Madge and Nan and they came forwards helped by Anthony. Slowly I unloaded the bags to gasps of delight. Wooden toy soldiers and dolls I handed out. I had bought tiny metal hairclips fashioned in the shape of flowers for the girls. They were not expensive but they would at least have something they could call theirs. To Jane I handed bags of clothes, in all colours and sizes. And a few bags of food.

'It is not much,' I told her.

Jane who had tears of gratitude in her eyes shook her head lost for words.

'I have tried to do my best to help them, but these are hard times,' she said sorrowfully.

'I know, and I want to help,' I told her grasping her hand in mine.

'I ain't ever seen 'em so appy!' she said in a strong accent that she had clearly been holding back, but which now sprang forth with her emotion.

'I will speak to the King and look for alternative housing, and better facilities,' I told her.

'You are very kind my lady,' She told me

'No,' I shook my head and bent to kiss her cheek 'you are the hero here Jane.'

She curtsied in reply, and I laughed and hugged the poor soul.

'If you need anything for them in the meantime, send for me directly,' I told her.

She nodded in reply and turned to watch the now laughing children who played with Nan, Madge and Antony with their new toys. I hoped this would show people that I had a heart and was not a selfish creature. Yes, part of this was because I wanted better relations with the people, but for the most part I genuinely wanted to help these poor souls. I had come far in my life, through perseverance, and education. These children would not have such a good start like me, I had resolved to help them the best I could.

I joined in the fun with the others, and slowly learnt a few more names of the children. Nan, and the others had overcome their reservations and were smiling and enjoying the children's simple innocence. I would love being a mother one day. I would be a devoted mother, and Henry a devoted father.

Later on when it was time to go, the children hugged at my legs and bid me farewell, running after me in the streets and calling my name. People from the houses came out to see what the commotion was, and I simply focused on the children, and blew them kisses as Anthony escorted us back to Whitehall.

'What an idea Anne!' Madge exclaimed forgetting formality in the exhilaration.

'They need my help,' I told her sincerely.

'It was very kind of you,' Anthony said.

'And heart breaking,' Nan added.

'Yes, and we can do more to help,' I told them all.

The sun shone through the clouds and I laughed and spun in my golden dress, holding my arms out. I was young, barely in my twenties, and the future seemed bright at the moment. All I needed now was Henry beside me to complete my happiness.

We were escorted back into Whitehall where we bid Anthony good day, and I went to my quarters to wash and prepare to meet the king. I couldn't wait to tell him of my ideas. I so wanted his support, and I wanted him to be proud of me.

* * *

 **Let me hear it!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you for all your feedback, it's wonderful to hear!**

* * *

" _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran_ _,_ _The Prophet_ _)_

* * *

Anne was busy in her rooms, she had asked the servants to prepare a lavish meal for her and Henry, and she planned it to be just them two. No servants, just each other's company. She had missed him today, although her worked had been compelling and rewarding, she had still felt like there was a presence missing from her side.

She was brushing out her curls, the way she knew Henry liked, long and free falling, she was wearing one of her more revealing dresses, it was white and flowing, without the tight corset and stays that she usually wore. An intricately embroidered gold ribbon was wrapped under her breasts, which made them look even lusher and sit higher. Her sleeves were long to her fingers in the Tudor style. The material was so fine and sheer that in the light, it was translucent. She knew it was not proper, however Henry made her feel daring, and when his eyes were on her, she wanted him to want her. Needed him to, as much as she needed him. She always wore more alluring clothing as was her fashion sense, but when she was with Henry she wanted to give him glimpses of her no one else would see.

A knock on her door, turned her around and she entered her privy chamber, expectantly awaiting the king's announcement, however her father strode into the room instead.

'Father!' she exclaimed happily moving forwards to her offer her cheek to be kissed.

Anne startled, as her father looked down his nose at her and took in her attire. His look of disdain grew and his eyebrows lowered in a frown. His eyes were cold and she knew he was furious. The look was rare, she had only seen it a handful of times, usually directed at George when he had done something indecent, however this was the first time Anne had seen him direct it at her. She knew he had been informed as to her whereabouts the night before. She thought he would be happy that her relationship with the King was progressing.

'Father?' she asked again.

'How could you?' he fumed shoving his finger in her face.

She stepped back in shock and gasped, 'what?!'

'You couldn't restrain yourself, you whore!' he accused her.

'You encouraged me to win his love,' Anne flung back.

'By becoming Queen and improving our family's interests, now you've spread your legs for him, he'll tire of you. I told you to prolong his interest!' He yelled at her.

'It's not like that, he loves me!' Anne exclaimed.

'Pretty words to seduce you,' her father said back.

'No,' Anne denied vehemently.

'He wrote you letters, gave you gifts, and bought you pretty dresses and like the paid whore you are you give in to him!' he said glaring at her and moving into her space.

'I am not a whore!' Anne said heatedly.

'So you're still a maid?' Her father asked sceptically.

'Well… I…not exactly,' Anne stuttered back.

'I thought you were different from your sister, I thought you had something about yourself, but you're just like her, and like your mother,' her father exclaimed.

Anne gasped in shock. Her mother Elizabeth had been beautiful, kind and loving in ways her father never was, and she was taken from her far too soon. She had always encouraged Anne to use her intelligence and see beyond the limits her sex ascribed her too. She told her to reach for the stars, and to enjoy life. She had been a woman of spirit. Her only fault had been that she had loved her husband far too much. Her father, never showed her any glimpse of love, he had married her for her name 'Howard,' and the respectability it carried. Howard's were descended from 13th century royalty, and Thomas Boleyn was forever craving more power, and more wealth.

He had seduced her mother, married her and then ignored her, unless it was to get her pregnant. Elizabeth had succumbed to melancholy, and depression. She had turned to others to fulfill her heartbreak and love, but none had lived up to her husband. Thomas had laughed when she told him of her affairs, trying vainly to spur him into jealousy and some passion towards her. He had laughed and called her a whore, claiming that was all she was good for. Her depression had killed her, and although Anne had blamed her father, she had still loved him. He had always treated his children respectably and with love. Still the resentment had remained, and they never spoke of her mother again.

Fury flashed through her at the mention of her mother, Anne had always had a short temper, and she couldn't restrain the shout of fury that escaped her and she lashed out at her father seeking to rake her nails down his cheek and pound her fists on his chest. He easily restrained her and with a shout of anger threw her to the floor.

Anne looked up at him and screamed at him, 'All I ever wanted was your love, your approval, I studied so hard, I learnt everything I could, anything to win your favour and make you proud. But it was never enough, and now, you want me to manipulate a man I love and use him in your quest for power. I won't do it, father, never!'

'I told you not to fall in love with him!' Her father shouted back.

'How can I not? He's the first man, no person to ever show a genuine interest in me, and not for my looks, he sees my self-worth, he respects me!' Anne yelled.

'Oh I see, he respects you so much that he fucked you? You're just another cunt in which to stick himself into!' Her father said.

The vile language astonished Anne, and she got to her feet weeping quietly.

'He loves me father, why can't you?' Anne whispered.

Now fuming with anger her father strode the final distance and in a quick movement struck her sharply across the face. Anne fell to the floor in shock. She had never been hit before, never in her twenty two years of life. The pain wasn't what hurt most, it was the feeling of the last trickle of love she had for her father that slipped out of her. She knew she had lost him.

A cry of anger forced her to look up, as she saw Henry standing in the doorway flanked by two servants. Henry took one look at her wounded face, and turned to her father, who turned pale and instantly bowed low.

Henry's temper was worse than hers, and without restraint he stormed forwards and pushed her father upright. He flung a punch straight into his face, and sent him flying to the floor. Henry was atop him then, pounding relentlessly at his face.

Anne was astonished at first, at such violence in her own chambers, then sense immediately overtook her. Henry would not stop. He would kill him, a king couldn't become a murderer.

'Henry, stop please!' Anne yelled staggering to her feet and running towards them.

'How fucking dare you touch her!' Henry was yelling his attack unwavering, even as Boleyn moaned in pain.

'Henry!' Anne begged hesitatingly touching his shoulder. He ignored her though consumed in wrath.

Anne looked around her desperately, she couldn't stop them, she was not strong enough and already she was hurt. She looked to the servants who stood perplexed and terrified, and was about to yell at them to get help, when suddenly her brother George burst into the chambers.

He took one look at the situation and flew into action.

'Your majesty!' he yelled shouting at the king.

'Henry!' Anne joined in.

'If you kill him, you can never marry her,' George said, but the king appeared not to hear.

Finally Anne tried one last thing.

'Henry I'm hurt, please it hurts so much, I need you,' Anne whimpered and the King's strikes finally wavered.

The yelling ceased and Henry thrust himself backwards from a groaning Boleyn. Anne ran to Henry and crouched over him assessing his bruised hand. She kissed it and stroked at his hair. Henry in return dragged her to him, into his arms there on the floor and kissed her, causing her to wince at the pain in her face. Henry drew back and glared mutinously at Boleyn.

'I want to kill him!' he whispered 'I have never succumbed to this kind of anger before.'

George had hesitantly stepped towards his father where he sat him up and dabbed uselessly at his ruined face with a handkerchief.

'Are you okay?' Henry asked gazing at Anne's blue orbs.

'Yes my love, just a little tender, I am distressed our night is ruined, I so wanted it to be perfect!' Anne said.

'We will have many more perfect nights to look forward to,' Henry promised.

'Your majesty?' George asked.

Henry turned to look at George, who stood awkwardly next to his father.

'What is to be done with him?' George asked.

Henry turned to Anne, and stared at her. A silent question was being asked here, and the two seemed to read each over so easily. Henry stared at her some more, then sighed and turned back to George.

'Take him to his chamber and call for the doctor, he is to be ready to move by dawn, he is to retire to his estate under the excuse that he must see to the crops and trade.' Henry said.

'Yes your majesty,' George bowed, then awkwardly said 'thank you your majesty, Anne.'

Anne knew he was thanking her for sparing their father's life. Although the love she had for her father had vanished, she could not kill him. George still loved him she knew, and although he was loyal to her, she could not stand to see his sadness at his death, and know that she was part of the reason.

'He is never to return to court,' Henry said.

George bowed and heaved his father up from the floor and half carried him, half dragged him out of Anne's rooms.

Henry gently helped Anne to a chair and assessed her face, which was bright red and slightly swollen. He turned to a servant and ordered him to fetch Doctor Linacre, Henry's best physician to him at once.

'I will not be so presentable tomorrow I fear,' Anne said sniffing quietly.

'You are beautiful,' Henry assured her.

'I'm so sorry,' Anne said weeping.

'For what my love?' Henry asked kneeling before her and gently cupping her face.

'For everything, for my father, for our scheming, for causing uproar in your court, for turning you from your wife, for the anger of Rome and Spain. It is all my fault!' Anne exclaimed and buried her face in her hands.

'And our love?' Henry asked sounding vulnerable 'Are you sorry for that?'

'I want to be, I want to regret it,' Anne said 'But I can't, I am tied to you, I am utterly and completely, head over heels in love with you, and I wouldn't change it for the world. I would give anything, do anything, simply for an hour in your presence. But I would willingly endure the agony of separation for your happiness. I would do anything, be anything for you.'

Henry gazed at her in awe and shock.

'Let them grumble,' Henry said grasping her face and bringing their foreheads together, and staring into Anne's eyes. 'You will win the hearts of the people, I heard of your success today, let Spain and their armies come, let the pope complain from his corrupt ivory tower. I will fight them all and I will win, for it is only when I am with you that I feel like I can be myself. I can be just Henry with you Anne, your love makes me want to be a better king. To be a better everything, just so I can see your love shine through you. Your love makes me whole. And in return my love will crown you.'

Anne stared into his eyes which were so close, and despite the pain in her face she threw herself at him, shocking him by pushing him onto his back and climbing over him to claim his lips in a kiss, ignoring the pain in her cheek. She pressed herself against him, and moaned into his mouth. She didn't know what she wanted. She only knew she wanted to be closer to him.

'Anne!' Henry said tearing his face away from her. 'You're injured.'

'I love you,' she whispered back, to which Henry laughed.

He pushed up into a sitting position against her causing her to lean back.

'Not like this, with him looming over us,' Henry said.

Anne smiled knowing he was right. Together they stood and seated themselves and talked whilst Henry held a cold towel to her face, as they waited for the doctor. It wasn't long before he came followed by an anxious Nan and Madge, who fussed and clucked over her.

'Ladies let the doctor do his work,' Anne said smiling sweetly at them.

Doctor Linacre bowed both to Henry and Anne, which shocked her. She was not royalty, yet he bowed to her. Henry smiled at his display. Linacre was fiercely loyal to him, and Henry held him in high esteem. He was the best doctor in England. He was invaluable and a good servant to him. It was only natural that he would respect someone who he held dear to his heart. Who knew, one day he might even help deliver his children.

'My lady?' Linacre questioned holding up a hand hesitantly to her face, wanting to assess her.

Anne tilted her face up towards the candle light, so he could see her better. He turned her head to and throw and stared into her eyes. He gently prodded against her cheek and then turned back towards Henry.

'Badly bruised, but nothing more, I'm sure in a few days it will shine many colours, but it will soon fade, rest and a cold towel should help with the swelling,' The doctor said.

'It won't leave a mark will it,' Anne asked vainly, she knew Henry valued her beauty and she did not want it ruined.

'No my lady,' Linacre assured her.

'Thank you doctor,' Henry said showing him out of her rooms.

'What am I going to do?' Anne asked.

'It will fade Anne,' Henry assured coming back towards her.

'But what will people in court say? They will speculate and start rumours,' Anne said.

'They wouldn't dare,' Henry said adamantly.

'Perhaps I should stay here until it fades,' Anne said.

'And let your father win?' Henry asked.

'But what if people assume the worst? What if they assume you did it?' Anne asked terrified.

'We know the truth,' Henry said.

'Very well, but I will avoid court and perhaps go back into the lower town,' Anne said.

'The common people will also speculate,' Henry told her.

'Yes, but perhaps I could work this to my advantage,' Anne said a gleam in her eye.

'There is my clever girl,' Henry laughed.

Anne smiled and made to stand, her ladies hastened to help her and steady her.

'I will retire and see you tomorrow?' Anne asked.

Henry stared at her longingly, even with a marred face Anne was beautiful. The fact she had gained the mark defending their love increased his desire. He just wanted to be able to be with her, openly, freely without slander. His divorce could not come soon enough.

'Indeed you will sweetheart,' he leaned forwards and brushed a loving kiss across her forehead and stepped back.

'I love you,' Anne whispered mindful of their audience.

'I love you too,' Henry said loudly beaming as her ladies giggled.

'Goodnight,' Anne laughed at him, then turned and with her ladies help left into her bedchamber.

How Henry wished he could follow. With a sigh he resolutely turned on his heel and left, taking the long lonely route back to his own quarters. He felt that with every step his heart was stretching back to Anne, he felt like the further he went the more tension he put on it. He was worried that the longer he spent away from her that it might break.

Things with his council had been going well, he had set up a vote in parliament to proclaim him head of the church and it would soon be put to the vote. He could guess who would vote against. But he was assured by his council that he would gain a majority. Cromwell assured him that the major universities back him. He had also put forward to him, a new bishop, a certain Mr Cranmer. The same man who had suggested that his great matter was a theological one, not a religious one. His way of thinking was unique and modern, indeed it was refreshing. Henry who had always grown up deeply catholic, had never before seen the depth of the deceit and evils of Catholicism. Indeed his own father had intended him towards the church before Arthur had died. The great matter had opened his eyes to the follies and vices of the church. They alone spread religion, they valued superstition and preached values that those themselves did not hold to. Most bishops he knew had mistresses and children. All lived lavish life styles with rich houses and many servants. Yet they spoke to the common people that to live in lust and greed were sins.

It was confusing to the common people who could not read their own bible. Most people did not speak Latin, let alone be able to read it. They counted on their bishops and cardinals to teach them gods will. They put their lives and their trust in them and in return they were given hypocrisy and deceit. The monasteries stole from them and gave them nothing back. He could easily see why Lutheranism was spreading. He understood why intelligent people like Anne and Cromwell were so commending of the new religion. It was a religion for the people, for everyone with rich values of liberty and justice. He knew that it would be a long and difficult journey to persuade all of England to it, but knew that if he persisted with his Lady perseverance, they could move England into a golden age.

* * *

 **Let me know your thoughts!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here we go again, enjoy!**

* * *

 _"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Her face was no better by morning, the swelling had gone down a little but it was now taking on a greenish tone that made her look ill. Anne frowned in the mirror and cursed her vanity and her father. His ambition had brought their family so high, but at what price? Mary was labelled a whore wherever she went, and George who had never had Anne's intelligence or wit covered up his shortcomings with excessive charm and humour which made him seem a little foolish. For all that they had gained, land and titles, it seemed they had also lost something that should have been a lot dearer…family.

Anne remembered when she was little, Mary her then innocent older sister had taught her how to style her hair, what colours would suit her best, and the beginnings of dancing. She had seemed like a princess to Anne; pretty, kind, and everything a woman should be. George had been her confidant, she had helped him with his reading when he had struggled. In turn she could speak to him about everything, her dreams, and her hopes, all of her secrets. Then her father had sent herself and Mary to first Burgundy and then France. Whilst Anne had blossomed on her travels, her family had fallen apart. Mary was encouraged to win King Francis's attention, which she did easily. He flattered her vanity and taught her the sins of the flesh far too early in Anne's opinion. Lust became her sin, and she soon became known as wanton and loose…the Kings whore. Her father did nothing to dissuade it, Francis's favour made him rich. With Henry's added affection, he became both rich and powerful, but at the expense of Mary's name and reputation.

Anne had been given excellent tutors, Queen Claude was a fascinating woman, intelligent, beautiful, and not afraid to show it. For the first time in her life, Anne had felt a kinship and sense of familiarity that she had never known before. Claude herself took a guiding hand in Anne's training, teaching her many languages, dancing, music, singing, and above all how to behave around men. She learnt how to flirt with restraint, how to entice whilst remaining a mystery. Anne become the object of fascination for many men. She was sad to leave her service, for in her she had truly learnt what it was to simply be herself, and not to fear it. She was a woman yes, beautiful yes, intelligent yes, and she would not hide behind a man for the rest of her life, instead she would look for one who would value her qualities.

Anne thought she had found that man in Thomas Wyatt, but looking back she knew she had behaved like a child, he had wrote her pretty poems, and smiled at her with his pretty face and Anne had thought he respected her. But his promises amounted to nothing, he didn't leave his wife, and constantly pressured her for sexual favours. Anne was almost glad when her father had bid her to catch the King's eye so she could be away from him.

Henry, her beloved Henry. Finally she had found the one person who valued her, he loved to hear her opinions, and he loved everything about her including her faults. Yes, she knew he lusted for her body, but he had valued her honour and refrained for years, and styed faithful. It was for him that she was doing this now, she would leave her chambers with her head held high, despite the marks on her face. She would not cower or blush, she would wear her marks like a badge of honour.

Taking a deep breath, Anne strolled confidently out of her apartments dressed in a gown of red and gold, accompanied by Nan and Madge. Walking through the vast maze of Whitehall she met many courtiers who stared at her face and whispered as she walked past. She heard Henry's name mentioned more than once, and grimaced at the thought of the vile gossip people would spread. Hopefully when people learnt of her father's banishment, they would come to the proper conclusion.

Walking into the courtyard she met an astonished Anthony who gasped upon looking at her.

'Lady Anne?' he ran up to her. Anne blushed at his concern, at least she had won one person over to her cause.

'I am quite well, Sir Anthony, have no fear,' Anne said calmly.

'You should rest, what on earth happened?' Anthony asked.

'My father…' Anne trailed off.

Anthony looked at her in confusion.

'Your father?' He questioned 'I thought he was in favour of you and the King.'

'Yes, but not at the expense of his own ambition,' Anne said crossly.

'Ah, I see,' he said frowning and looking away awkwardly.

Anne smiled at him and walked past him and into the familiar route down to the lower towns.

'Where are we going today my lady? The orphanage?' Anthony asked.

'No, not this time, somewhere else,' Anne said.

'My lady?' Nan asked stepping in.

'Don't worry we will be perfectly safe,' Anne replied.

Both Madge and Nan had been wary about her escapades into the lower town, and although they did not protest, they cautioned her loudly and often. The people who were going about their normal days, looked in shock to see the King's favourite walking again through the lower town. They stared at her face in shock wondering at the story behind it. By the end of the day Anne would leave them in no doubt.

A vile smell of vinegar wafted up through the streets as Anne turned sharply round a corner and Anthony immediately stepped forwards to stop Anne's tracks.

'My lady this is a sick house!' he warned.

'Yes you are correct Sir Anthony,' Anne replied calmly.

'This cannot be your destination?!' Anthony exclaimed.

'Indeed it is so.'

'My lady you know how the King fears about any sickness!' Anthony replied.

'Then I bid you stay outside so you do not risk contamination,' Anne replied.

'And what of yourself, the King would have me killed if he knew I let you go in there!' Anthony said.

'Anne…' Nan started.

'Ladies, Sir Anthony, I was on the brink of death with the sweat myself. I saw death, I looked hard at him and I bid him away. My love for the King and his for me, protects me from any illness. It was a miracle I survived and it was not without purpose, have no fear, for I shall not succumb to death,' Anne said resolutely.

'Please my lady,' Madge begged.

'The people of England are neglected, the sick die and the rich prosper, and the church does not help them, or attend to them for fear of contamination. Who then can comfort them? Who can assure them that there is some good in this world, that it is not all pain and suffering?' Anne told them.

'I understand your sentiments my lady, and I respect them. But it takes a brave man to walk into a room full of plague, but I wonder if you are being brave or terribly foolish in this endeavour of yours.' Anthony told her honestly.

Anne smiled in reply 'Only through experiencing fear can someone be truly brave, I am no fool.'

With that Anne left the three of them and stepped up to the doors of the large crumbling building and with a deep breath entered the dark place. Immediately the scent of death and sickness invaded her senses, she forced herself not to turn back and walked resolutely up to the main room. One of the barber surgeons wearing a blood stained apron gasped upon seeing her and quickly strolled up to her.

'Away with you fine lady, this is no place for the living!' he exclaimed.

'My name is Anne Boleyn,' Anne said calmly.

At this the man's face lost all colour. By now all of England new about the king's favourite and her power over the court.

'You will let me enter.'

The man stuttered and frowned before reluctantly standing aside. As Anne entered, she struggled not to cover her mouth and nose as the smell hit her. There were many pallets littered around the hall, there were holes in the roofs dripping onto the poor souls who were lying there. Anne made her way to the back of the room, where a group of men were lying, they did not look sick, however she saw that many were crippled; missing limbs with wounds that affected their life. These were the men Anne had come to see.

'Well look at this fellas, maybe God hasn't abandoned us after all,' one man spoke addressing Anne.

'Who is it George?' A poor fellow who was blind asked squinting to no avail.

'Some handsome lady Ed, or would be without the bruises on her,' the man called George said.

The man in question had a kind face that was lined and his hair was beginning to grey. He looked like he had seen many hardships, the fact that he was missing his right leg proved this.

'My name is Anne Boleyn,' Anne said and neatly knelt in front of where all the men were gathered.

'What's a girl like you doing in this hell hole?' George asked.

'I don't believe this is hell,' Anne replied.

'Of course not, rich girl like you with your pretty airs and looks wouldn't live here,' he replied.

'I don't believe this is hell, for angels do not reside in hell,' Anne continued smiling.

The men surveyed her with bafflement.

'What did you say your name was?' he asked again.

'Lady Anne Boleyn,' she repeated.

'You mean that woman who is after the king?' he replied.

'The very same,' Anne said.

'What you doing here, looking for a doctor for your face?' he asked unkindly.

'No I am here to see you,' Anne replied 'What is your name sir?'

'George,' he replied.

'My brother's name,' Anne smiled.

Slowly she went round the men and learnt their names and asked them about themselves.

'Why are you in this place George, where is your family?' Anne asked.

'My mum couldn't look after me after the war, couldn't afford it, nor bear to look at me, and said I would have been better off dead. No woman would marry me, so here I am a poor retired foot soldier forced to live off of the charity of others, but why would you care?'

'The war with Scotland, the battle of Flodden?' Anne asked.

He nodded in reply shivering at the name.

'I admire you,' Anne continued.

'Aye? You admire the fact that I've been lying in my own filth for days on end, with not food or clean water for hours?' George sneered.

'I am here to help,' Anne said calmly.

'Why?' George asked.

Anne was puzzled by his question.

'What's in it for you?' he asked.

'I hope to be Queen one day, I will rule over the people of England, you are my people, I should learn about you and how I can help,' Anne said.

'Help? What do you know of war woman? What do you know of death, and of blood and of fighting?' George spat at her.

'It is true I have never been in a war, my mother's family however was full of noble knights who won many victories and earnt respect for the name Howard. As for death, I have seen it when the sweat nearly took my life. I also saw death when my mother died, and my baby brothers and sisters who died so young that I do not remember their names. I see blood every month as a woman, and fear that one day I will stop bleeding and will be childless with no one to love me.'

They were hooked, with every word Anne said the men stared at her captivated.

'I may not know the battlefield Mr George, but I am fighting my own sort of battle, I want to save this country, I want to save the lives of good men like you, I want the monarchy to be of pure English blood, not of foreigners that cause wars and trouble, I want to give the King a son and raise England to a golden age, I want to fight for his love, I want to fight against Catholicism and the evils in its religion.'

The men gasped at this and crossed themselves. Anne laughed at their fear and continued on regardless.

'Tell me, where are your priests gentlemen? Have they come to comfort you? Aid you as they should? Or do they stay away in fear? Fear that God is displeased with them, and has forsaken them for their sins, they know he won't save them from contamination, because they are not true servants of God. Jesus says we should help those in need, and look to our neighbours. They have ignored Christ's call, they have ignored you!' Anne finished.

The men all stared at her.

'Where did you learn that?' one man asked.

Anne turned to survey him, his name was Edmund and he was blind. His eyes were a cloudy grey and roved aimlessly around the room. He had lost his sight when shrapnel from a musket ball had splintered into his face. He had received no help, and was abandoned by his family.

'I was well educated, and have travelled far and read much,' Anne replied.

'Do you really believe that the Queen is causing this mayhem?' Edmund asked sceptically.

'Of course not, Catherine is a good lady, but she has faults. Her first and foremost loyalty is to Spain, not to the King her husband. The King has seen this in her letters to the Emperor. She has not given the king a son, which I suppose you would suggest is bad luck, however the Queen is so overcome by piety that she has fasted until the point where she has made herself barren. She put her faith before her duty, and because of this England will suffer,' Anne replied.

'She did that?!' Edmund exclaimed.

'It is well known that a wholesome diet is required to bear children, the Queen refused to do this, and because of this the King is childless,' Anne said.

'What about Princess Mary?' George asked.

'She has rarely left her mother's side in childhood, and is devoted to her, she speak with a Spanish accent, and she too is overly pious as a result of her mother's religious teaching, who will have taught her the same mistakes. On top of this, she is a girl, England has never coped well when a King has tried to give his kingdom to a daughter. Let us not forget as well, that she was married to the Kings brother, if the marriage was consummated, like our King believes it to be, then Mary is a bastard,' Anne finished.

'Why have we not been told any of this?' The men exclaimed.

'I am here now, to show you the light, to show you the way. You men have been spared death like myself, God has plans for you, I know it, like he does for me,' Anne said.

'What can we do?' George scoffed.

'You can inspire others, like you do me, with your courage and faith,' Anne replied 'And I will help, I have sought the help of some physicians that have agreed to asses you and try to help ease your pain, plans are being made for you relocation from this death house. You are not dying men, and should not be housed amongst them,' Anne said smilingly.

The men all exclaimed joyously and conversation moved on to happier things, the men shared with Anne tales of their heroics and childhood and she was moved by all these men had lost.

'What happened to your face?' George asked.

'Like I said, we all must fight, and this is my own battle wound, people seek to bring me down and manipulate me,' Anne said.

'Stay strong my lady,' Edmund whispered to which the others repeated like a prayer.

Anne left not long after in a great mood. Before long word would spread of her charitable deeds, and her modern opinions. Hopefully it would be enough for people to realise that they had nothing to fear from her. All she wanted was to live in peace with Henry, and to help him rule his kingdom and create a family. It was an impossible dream, but she was started on the right path.

Her ladies and Anthony fussed over her as she left, and insisted she see doctor Linacre. She laughed them off and made her way back through the lower town, stopping in the market to buy from the local trade. She usually paid for material to be imported from all the best places in Europe, however she knew that if she supported her own kingdoms trade it would benefit not only her but her people. She chose a lovely green silk, to which she would design a new dress, and some trinkets to adorn her hair, nothing overly expensive, just pieces of plain iron, but crafted into beautiful shapes of butterflies and painted in beautiful colours.

People watched her from all over town, she heard them speculate about her face, but as well she heard many words of praise at how good it was to see courtiers actually mingling with the common people too. It created a sense of comradery and community, which Anne revelled in. As she walked she smiled at the people she passed and asked them about their day, never stopping for long, but just enough to be polite. They were shocked at her attention but overjoyed at the same time. It was so unlike courtiers to show attention to the lives of ordinary people, yet here was the King's favourite effortlessly navigating her way through with ease and grace.

With every step she took Anne felt her confidence increasing, she could do this. She was positive together she and Henry would persevere, and together they would build an England that would be spoken about of centuries. Together they would be immortal.

* * *

Catherine of Aragon was worried. She had been worried for several years now, ever since Anne Boleyn had begun serving as one of her Ladies in waiting. At first she had thought there was nothing special about her, at once glance, she deemed her a pretty well-spoken girl, and as a result had severely underestimated her. Anne Boleyn on closer inspection was exceptional, she was beautiful in ways Catherine wasn't. She was young, whereas Catherine was aging. She was bold with her beauty, and unrefined, she dismissed the fashion of court and created her own wearing her own daring gowns designed by herself with beautiful embroidery and daring necklines, and wore her hair dark shining hair uncovered for all to see.

Catherine had thought herself well educated, but on knowing Anne Boleyn further she realised she was vastly outclassed. Anne spoke more languages than her, including her native Spanish. She had a firm grasp on politics and was well read. She was by far the best dancer Catherine had ever seen, graceful yet flirtatious with her eyes that drew men in like hooks for the soul.

Yes Catherine of Aragon was worried. She had never met a girl like this one and she realised neither had her husband. She had assumed that Henry would be infatuated with her for a brief time and then move on, his love firmly remaining in her grasp. But he had not. Anne was too intelligent for that, she had lured him, seduced him until the King was obsessed with her, in a way she had never seen. His every look was upon her, and he was unashamed of it.

She had hoped his alliance with her Nephew the emperor would have dissuaded him for attempting to be rid of her. But Henry had persevered and now he was trying to break from Rome, all for the sake of some common girl.

When she had first met Henry, barely a man, she was struck by his intelligence and wit. He was athletic and outspoken in ways his brother Arthur never was. They were so different, Arthur was quiet, observant and timid. Henry was bold and brash and shone like the sun. Yet it was Arthur to whom she had been drawn too. Her first husband was sweet and caring and he genuinely wanted to be a good King. He listened to her and asked her about her childhood and Spain. She loved him, and when they had been married of course they had consummated their marriage. It had been a wonderful night, and afterwards he had whispered words of love and devotion to her. Then he had died, and Catherine had been devastated and had been forgotten. Spain forgot her, England forgot her, obsessed with the new King.

But then a miracle had happened, Henry had married her. She had not loved him at first, her heart was Arthur's, and he was so different from him. But gradually his charm and his passion for life and laughter drew her in, and she fell for him easily. She had lied when he asked about her and Arthur, telling him he was far too young and sick, to bed her. The pope gave them a dispensation and they had married. Henry loved her, and for a few years was faithful, until death took daughter after daughter, son after son from her. Henry's eyes that once shone with love paled and withered and became accusing.

Catherine had turned to God and the church in prayer and devotion, wishing with all her might for a son, to make the King happy and to secure her place. When Mary had been born healthy, she had been pleased that it proved her fertility, but the King had not been impressed with a daughter. He loved Mary, she knew he did, but his want for a son outgrew any love he had for her and her daughter. Prayer turned into fear, and fear into obsession, until she was deep within Catholicism and its darker natures, fasting to please God and walking bare foot often to appease for her sins. As much as she was devout to God, she could not give up her security as Queen. Yes she had lost her maidenhead to Arthur, but Henry had taken everything else, she was his true and lawful wife, surely such passage of time made their marriage lawful, Rome seemed to agree, as the pope had so far steadfastly refused to grant her husband his divorce.

With all her body she wished Anne Boleyn would just disappear, when she had been struck by the sweat, Catherine had thanked God, but upon her recovery she had resigned herself to the fact that Anne Boleyn was a strong woman who would not go easily. The Spanish ambassadors Mendoza and Chapuys had told her to be patient and to trust in her nephew and she did, with her whole heart. But she knew that before long, if she wanted to stay as Queen, something would have to be done.

* * *

 **Let me hear it!**


	8. Chapter 8

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

 **Please note that this story is rated M and things might be getting a bit hot and heavy!**

* * *

Henry scowled from his place in court. The bishops were arguing over pointless things, backwards and forwards about whether Catherine was a virgin, whether she wasn't. If the marriage was valid, whether it wasn't. Most seemed to be on his side. Some stubborn ones however, were resolutely against him, Bishop Fisher for instance. And although he was remaining quiet he knew More was against him too. That upset him, but did not surprise him. He had known Thomas More for a long time, he had been his tutor and close friend. However they disagreed on many things. More was devoutly catholic, but in the extreme, Henry knew that for all his claims to peace and prosperity he would have no qualms starting a religious civil war and burning anyone who spoke of Lutheranism.

Such violence confused Henry, and he was deeply regretting choosing him as chancellor. He was burning Lutherans yet Henry was trying to remove Rome and its powers from England. The two did not work together, and although Henry had told More to look to God first, he knew he had a duty to his people, so that they did not live in confusion and fear.

More would have to go. He would have to go quietly, whilst public opinion of him was dwindling he was still popular, although through Anne's efforts, public opinion of him had cooled. They were beginning to see the hypocrisy, and corruptness of Catholicism and those who followed it above all else. Word was getting round that the Queen, was actively working for Spain, and the emperor, and that her first loyalty was towards her nephew.

Anne had told him some things of what she was doing, however, she had been so busy that Henry had hardly seen her since the incident with her Father. He knew she was clever, far beyond any woman he had ever met, and now she was proving it. All it had taken was for people to actually know her, and listen to her, and people were already rallying to her cause. She was not a saint, Henry knew this, and he knew why she was doing this. She was definitely getting something out of her charitable actions. But Henry firmly believed that the other part of her was doing it out of her own goodness. Anne was not an evil woman, she loved wholly and completely, and she had chosen to love the people of England.

She had been handing out works of Tyndale and Luther. She had been cleverly opposing catholic views, without prejudice or threats, she simply examined the merits and showed people the evils, and instead gave them an alternative. The sick she had helped, the poor she had given better prospects, and the common folk she had elevated through her trade and spreading the word of the new religion. The people were slowly beginning to love her. Which meant Henry's court proceedings were moving much more quickly.

Soon he would put it to the vote, to make him head of the Church of England in all matters temporal and spiritual. England would be beholden to him and him alone. Rome would have no part in his country ever again. Catherine would be divorced and settled far away, and Anne would be his Queen. His beautiful intelligent Queen.

* * *

Henry was eating in his apartment dining room and Brandon had joined him. The court had gone well, and soon he would have his answer. Henry was almost giddy with joy, the only thing marring his happiness was that Anne was not with him, she was in the lower town with Anthony and her ladies. He did not fault her absence, but he missed her dearly. He missed her glowing blue eyes catching his across the table and the promise they held. He missed the way her foot would brush up against his leg under the table, tempting him and frustrating him. He missed her intelligent conversation and her wit and pert opinions. She was the life and soul of any party, and when in the room all eyes were on her. Even in court and he was splendid in all his pomp and circumstance, Anne drew everyone's gaze. The way she carried herself, the way she held herself, with that almost smug look on her face. It was almost as if she knew she was far above anyone else in the room, no matter the nature of her birth and family. She was beautiful, she was alluring and she knew it. That kind of confidence drew everyone to her like moths to a flame. Despite all this, Henry knew her beyond all that mystery. He had seen her weak, he had seen her angry, happy, crying, and laughing. He knew her unlike anyone else, except perhaps her siblings. He was given the rare glimpse into her soul, and it was a gift he treasured. He alone had her love and attention. He truly was blessed.

'It went well at court today,' Brandon said remarking on the earlier morning.

'Yes, soon I will be free,' Henry laughed popping a grape in his mouth.

'Are you sure you're doing this for the right reasons?' Brandon asked bravely.

'What do you mean?' Henry asked staring at him.

'You're going to renounce Rome, renounce Catholicism, and claim to be head of the church, why? You've always been Catholic Henry,' Brandon said.

'Yes, until I learnt the evils of it,' Henry replied.

'You mean until Lady Anne showed you certain things,' Brandon said smugly.

'I was having doubts long before I even met Anne, Charles,' Henry said staring at him until he looked down.

'You never spoke these doubt to me,' Charles replied.

'You were never serious enough to hear them,' Henry replied, to which Charles looked at him in confusion.

'You have never taken affairs of the state seriously Charles, I admit, I myself often left the fate of my realm in the hands of others, but at some point we have to grow up, I did, you didn't,' Henry said.

'Your kingdom was fine until you met that girl,' Charles said.

'No it wasn't,' Henry replied 'Wolsey took money that rightly belonged in my exchequer, bishops were growing fat on profit, whist spewing out falsehoods, and I was and still am trapped in a false marriage to my brother's wife, whose strict piety might well have stopped us having children, along with Gods curse for marrying her in the first place.'

'Catherine is a good Queen Henry,' Brandon said resolutely.

'She's a Spaniard, whose loyalty does not lie with us, I have seen her with Chapuys and Mendoza, their secret meetings, I know of her letters to Spain and her promises to be the emperors servant, so tell me again how good of a Queen is she?' Henry asked his voice growing louder with passion.

Brandon looked down at his plate defeated. That woman had ruined everything. Before her, they were happy, England was happy. Now it was in turmoil, all because of some evil witch had put spells on him. Brandon knew there was something wrong with her, when he had first met her. Her eyes, her looks, all so exotic, and strange. The way everyone fawned over her and stared at her. Brandon had resolved that she must be a witch, Catherine, his new wife agreed with her. And now she had captured Henry with her spell. He was determined he would put an end to their relationship and save Henry from disaster.

'Where is the lady Anne?' Brandon asked.

'Doing charity work in the lower town,' Henry replied turning back to his food.

'I hear Knivert has been spending a lot of time with her,' Brandon said playing his trump card.

'What of it?' Henry asked glaring at him.

'You're not worried?' Brandon asked.

'Worried of what?' Henry spat. Brandon continued on despite the glare he was getting from Henry.

'You can't in all honesty believe her to be true, I've heard Wyatt boast about sleeping with her. The way she dresses, the way she flirts. Her sister' influence too, you can't seriously believe that she's an honest maiden, do you?' Brandon asked smirking, knowing that jealously would be Henry's weakness.

'Yes I can, and do believe it,' Henry said.

'And if you marry her, and it's proven to be true?' Brandon asked.

Henry shot to his feet, his eyes glowing with fire and anger. And he threw his goblet at Brandon covering him in wine.

'I have all the proof I need of Anne's honour and virtue Brandon, should the question arise, and I don't know how you dare to disrepute an honest woman, with no proof to your claims, other than hateful rumours spread in jealously.' Henry yelled.

Brandon slipped off his chair and fell to his knees with his head bowed. He knew he had gone too far. But his mind was whirling. Henry had proof? He had lain with her already? If it was true then Brandon had lost, and all he had done was insult both Anne and Henry, who would most likely assume he had not been warning him out of friendly concern. But had been actively trying to bring Anne down. He would be lucky if he escaped with his life.

'Now I know why she refused when I said you'd protect her,' Henry yelled. 'She said you disliked her, well now I know the truth. You hate her, and you are trying to bring her down!'

'Your majesty, I beg your forgiveness, I was only concerned about your majesty's heart and feelings, I was worried for your majesty and falling for someone who had no love for your majesty. I see now I was at fault and that lady Anne is a virtuous lady deserving of your majesty's love.' Brandon said his eyes cast down, his heart hammering in his chest.

'I don't believe you!' Henry yelled and stormed forward and pushed Brandon back off of his knees until he fell backwards.

Henry couldn't believe it. His closest friend, someone he thought he could trust, was trying to ruin the woman he loved. He wanted his head, but couldn't bring himself to call for the guards. Brandon was his oldest friend from childhood. His sister had given him a son, and it was her he was thinking of now. His poor dead sister, her memory sparked anger too, she was dead because of Charles, dead because she had loved him too much, that his infidelity drove her to consumption. He deserved to die. But he couldn't leave that little boy without both of his parents.

'You are banished from court, take your new wife with you, and let us pray you do not kill this one,' Henry said spitefully watching with satisfaction as Brandon flinched backwards as if slapped.

'Your majesty…' He started.

'Be quiet!' Henry yelled. He stepped forwards and dragged Brandon to his feet by his collar and with his other hand he clenched it around his throat, watching as Brandon turned red, and fear shone in his eyes.

'If I ever see you again, I will mount your head on a spike,' Henry whispered glaring at him.

With that Henry threw him to the floor, and watched as he scrambled to his feet, bowed and walked backwards out of the room swiftly.

Henry flung himself back on his chair, and with a yell threw his plate of food into the opposite wall. He screamed with frustration and hurt. He would not cry, not over him. Friends were supposed to want you to be happy, they were supposed to support you. Hadn't he done that when Brandon had chosen to marry Margaret without his permission? Yes he was angry at first. But he had chosen to forgive him. He was reconciled to the idea that he would be his brother in law. It had made him happy.

And now, when in return Brandon should have supported him, supported Anne, and toasted his happiness. He instead wanted to drag her down, destroy her, poison his mind of her, and ruin everything they were to each other. His betrayal hurt more than he could describe.

He knew he needed comfort, and without realising it, he was walking towards Anne's rooms.

* * *

Anne was bathing, in her wash room. She indulged in baths regularly, one of her many luxuries. She gloried at the sensation of hot water gliding over her skin and hair. There was nothing more relaxing than soaking in lavender scented water whilst one of her ladies washed her hair and rubbed her scalp. It was heaven.

Today had gone well, she had managed to secure better housing for the sick and the orphans, and she had arranged for the market to be expanded so it was more accessible, with more space, meaning more consumers and more trade, which meant for money. People were smiling at her now, they called out her name and children ran after her. It was wonderful to feel accepted. But she knew that she should not become conceited, there was still a lot to be done. She was still not married to Henry, even though he assured her things were going well.

She sighed blissfully as Nan rubbed a Jasmine scented soap made out of olive oil through her hair. The oil made her hair shine, and the jasmine was her favourite scent. She knew she was lucky to have such luxuries and after seeing how some people lived in the lower town, she no longer ignored or looked past her luxuries and instead sent a silent prayer to God thanking him for his bounty.

* * *

Henry walked towards Anne' chambers his thoughts in a whirl, he was unescorted, and ignored the many people who bowed to him as he walked past. It was rare that he was alone, and he was sure the courtiers wondered why, however by the look on his face they stayed silent as he stormed his way round Whitehall.

He rounded the corner to Anne's chambers and nodded to the guards who hastily bowed and opened the doors. But he stopped them from announcing him, wanting to surprise his lady.

Her privy chamber was empty however, which made him frown. However the sound of water and murmured voices of ladies drew him to Anne's bathroom. He hesitated at the door, knowing it wasn't proper. But he was unable to resist. He quietly slipped into the room and surveyed the scene before him.

Anne's ladies were busy going about their business, one was folding towels ready for when she removed herself from the copper tub. Madge Shelton was arranging her clothes, and Nan Saville was washing Anne's hair.

The room was dark with the windows partly covered, soft candles gave the room an eerie feel. The glow from the candles reflected off the copper tub and surrounded Anne in a halo of light. She was the light in his darkness, the love to his pain. Just being in her presence soothed him, and she didn't even know he was there.

Madge looked up and looked at him with wide eyes, Henry held up a hand and a finger to his lips, and she seemed to understand, he motioned with his head for her to leave, and she caught the hand of the other attendant and left quietly. Nan turned to get the jug of water to pour over Anne's head and caught his gaze, her eyes widened in alarm, but again he quickly motioned for her to leave quietly. She smiled at him as she left.

On silent feet he walked up to the large tub, Anne was reclining her head against the rim, her eyes were closed which hurt him. He wanted to gaze on those beautiful blue eyes. Her body was mostly concealed by the soap in the water which an enticing scent emanated from its depths. The milky water concealed his greatest desire, it was a barrier from him which he longed to smash down.

'Nan?' his angel questioned her eyes still shut.

Henry took the jug from the table and moved behind her and pushed gently on her shoulders so she sat up. Her back was smooth and unblemished, creamy and he ached to stroke it, to run his tongue over her satin like skin. Her hair was soaked and was even darker than her usual dark brown and contrasted so beautifully with her pale skin. However in the candle light Henry could still see the hints of red that glistened softly. Nothing about Anne was the same, she was forever a changing mystery, a temptress that never faded in her allurement.

Gently he poured the water over her head, and the moan she gave as the warm water touched her skin, made his heart skip and his body harden. Henry had bedded many women, he had looked on even more, however none of them had ever compared to Anne. She was Aphrodite, his Venus, his angel, his heart, and his soul. Everything about her drew him in.

Placing the jug back on the table he leaned forwards and rested his hands on her shoulders rubbing in a soothing way, Henry pulled her back so she was leaning against the rim of the tub and bent to whisper brokenly in her ear.

'You tempt me so.'

Anne sat up and immediately turned her eyes gazing at him in alarm. Her eyes, they were the clearest blue he had ever seen. And when they gazed at him it was almost impossible for him to look anywhere else, even with her naked body before him

Anne gazed at Henry, he was so handsome. The King of England was kneeling outside her bath ready to attend to her, _her_ a mere commoner with hardly a claim to nobility. He looked at her like she was his whole world and it moved her. Every day she found herself even more and more in love with him.

There was something wrong though, there was a pain about him, a tiredness. Someone had hurt him. She turned completely, kneeling up and turned so she could reach a wet hand out to touch his face, smiling as his eyes closed to her touch.

'What has happened?' Anne asked concerned.

'I need you,' Henry whispered back his eyes broken with sorrow.

Anne was desperate to know what had upset him so, but she could see he couldn't talk about it. Her love needed her. And although she would not let him spill his seed in her, for she could not risk falling pregnant, she hoped she could soothe him in other ways.

Slowly and deliberately she stood up. Immediately his gaze turned upon her his eyes wide with awe. Water dripped over her body in droplets, and the candle light shone on her in all the right places. Henry had seen her unclothed in the woods that day, but not fully, not like this. She curved in all the right places, her breasts were high and full, her legs were toned and shapely and seemed to go on for miles. Her hair, draped over one shoulder in wet curls, grazed one breast and fell to touch her most intimate area. She looked like some water nymph out of mythology, never could he have imagined such perfection.

It was empowering, Anne decided. A King kneeling before her naked self, utterly still and absorbed in her. He who controlled the lives of so many, who had so much power, was utterly under her control. It was a heady sensation, but she would not give herself over to it. They were equals, they were one and the same, and she would never manipulate him, or take advantage of him. Never again.

Slowly she stepped out of the bath and still dripping walked towards him and pulled him to his feet. He embraced her naked body with trembling hands, and she wound her own around his neck. She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him gently, softly, caressing his bottom lip with her tongue. Henry gasped and pulled her tightly against him. It frustrated him that she was so unclothed and he remained fully dressed. He wanted skin on skin, he wanted to be able to bask in their love properly.

Their kiss became more passionate, his tongue pushed into her mouth and traced her own. One of her hands had moved from his neck to push aside his fur coat and reached inside of his doublet, then moaned in frustration as she met the linen shirt beneath it.

Suddenly he picked up her naked body and moved blindly out of the washroom and into her bedchamber, pushing aside the sheer curtains and laying her still wet body down onto the bed. He divested himself of his clothes as quickly as possible and stared at her lovingly and moved on top of her.

Both moaned in bliss as their heated bodies came into contact with each other. Anne's nails scraped up his back as he attached his mouth to her throat, moving downwards to tease her breasts. This hadn't happened before. They had been far too gone for any soft touches and teasing glances. It was all about Henry last time, and now it was all about her. Henry was adamant he would show her the pleasures of the flesh.

He moved his kisses further down reaching a hand up to caress her breasts whilst his lips sucked on her navel. Never before had he done this with a woman, never before had he cared enough. Before it had simply been a matter of gaining consent and then attending to his needs. Never had he cared about the woman's pleasure, ashamedly they had always been just a body to him. With Anne, his greatest desire was not his own pleasure, but hers. He loved her, he desired her and he needed her to want him back.

Slowly and hesitantly he moved his lips downwards.

'Henry?' Anne questioned, alarmed.

She had heard rumours in France, of men doing this. Mary had never mentioned it to her. But she had been in the company of men enough and listened as they babbled in drunken French about their escapades thinking she did not understand.

'You don't…please...' Anne stammered unsure of the protocol.

It felt so good, but Henry was a King, and she had wanted to comfort _him._ Henry moved back up and kissed her lips once silencing her.

'Let me,' he whispered 'Just feel.'

Without waiting for a reply Henry moved back down her body and gently pushed her legs further apart. He stroked her with his fingers, working out what she liked best. Hesitatingly he lowered his mouth, and withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his lips.

Anne gasped and arched her back as pleasure the likes she had never known shot through her. His touch was hesitant, his caresses unsure, and somehow she gathered he had never done this before. The thought moved her more than she could say. They were equals, even in pleasure. The pressure built as Henry became more confident. The pressure became harder and Anne felt a tightness in her belly the likes she had never felt before. Her head tossed from side to side and her hands grasped at the sheets, she was torn between asking him to stop and begging him for something else, something more, anything to release the pressure she felt.

'Please…oh please,' Anne begged unsure what she was even begging for.

Suddenly she felt a finger enter her and that was all it took before a wave of pleasure unlike any she had ever known came upon her. Her back arched and she cried out, her head twisting from side to side as she voiced her pleasure. Slowly it faded and she gasped for breath as her body came back down from her high. She opened her eyes to see Henry smiling adoringly at her from above. She smiled back then frowned as she felt his manhood hard against her leg.

Hesitantly she sat up and pushed him backwards and moved to straddle him.

'Anne, I don't expect anything in return,' Henry said.

'I know,' Anne said. 'But I want to.'

Henry smiled back at her.

'Though you may have to help me some,' Anne laughed.

'I will be a most willing tutor,' Henry laughed.

Anne silenced his smirking with a kiss, loving that their teasing and fun relationship could be present in this also. It was freeing to know that with this man, despite who he was, she could be herself and have no fear of mockery, or reprisal.

Daringly she reached down and wrapped a hand around his length, marvelling at the feel of him. She moved her hand uncertainly and smiled as she felt Henry's hand cover hers showing her what he liked. After a while he let go and it was his turn to lean back and close his eyes as pleasure assaulted his senses.

He had never seen the point of this before. Before he had always moved straight to penetration, but this was a different kind of pleasure, subtle and different and pleasing in different ways. He felt Anne's mouth touch his chest and jumped as her tongue moved between his stomach muscles and bit gentle nips, moving lower and lower. He dared not breathe or cry out for fear of her stopping but the pleasure felt so good it was difficult for him not to.

Her hand tightened and her speed moved up and it was the worst kind of torment ever, he wanted more yet, he never wanted the torture to stop. Suddenly he felt her tentative mouth touch him and a wetness engulf him and that was all it took before he exploded into her mouth. She reared back and coughed slightly, but laughed at the look of surprise and bliss on Henry's face. Concerned he sat up and used the bedsheets to wipe at her mouth.

'You should have warned me,' Henry gasped.

'That would have defeated the point,' Anne laughed.

Henry pulled her back down into his arms and covered her with the sheet. Their passion had dried Anne's body but her hair was still wet and he didn't want her to get ill. Climbing from the bed he added more fuel to the fire and then climbed back into the bed pulling her towards him.

'King Henry the eighth doing servants work?' Anne teased laughing.

Henry loved her like this, carefree and happy, unconcerned with his status.

'Do not tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain,' He laughed and pulled her closer running his hands over her smooth body.

'Are you going to tell me what happened today?' Anne asked hesitant to spoil the mood.

Henry sighed.

'It's Brandon.'

'Oh,' Anne replied.

'You were right about him,' Henry said sorrowfully.

'Oh Henry, I didn't want to be right,' Anne replied.

'He tried to tell me you were no virgin, that you had intentions with Knivert,' Henry said.

Anne laughed.

'Impossible, you're my life now,' Anne replied.

'I know, I have all the proof I need,' Henry smiled and tweaked her nose, to which she blushed.

'How did it go in court today?' Anne asked.

'Well, things are moving in my favour, more so now that the people are not as opposed to you,' Henry smiled.

'Yes, It's has been wonderful,' Anne smiled.

'I knew they would love you,' Henry replied. 'There is to be a vote, Cranmer will lead it, with God's will, by the end of this month I will be declared head of the church of England, and in charge of all matters temporal and spiritual. Along with the universities of Europe I will declare my marriage invalid and I will have my divorce.'

'Then we can plan the wedding,' Anne laughed in joy.

'Yes,' Henry smiled 'and this time nothing will stand in our way.'

* * *

 **So there you have it guys. What do you think? All plain sailing from now? Hmm….**


	9. Chapter 9

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you_ _._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

 **January 1531**

'Harry I have been your friend for a long time,' More said.

Henry was in his Privy Council chamber and More was with him going over matters of state and the affairs of the council in regards to his great matter.

'I know that,' Henry said not looking up keeping his gaze on the documents below him.

Today he was finding it difficult to look his old friend in the eye, he knew he would have to sack him as chancellor and send him back to his home and family. At one point, Henry thought that would have been all More would ever want, however his new craze about persecuting the Lutherans had obsessed him, and his work came first before his family now.

'I may speak out of turn, but it is in your best interest, I believe that if you go through with this. If you divorce Catherine, marry that girl and support Lutheranism, you will destroy this country,' More said.

Henry forced himself to look up.

'I have to disagree,' Henry said calmly refusing to let anger take hold of him.

'The English people are Catholic,' More stated.

'Some are not,' Henry replied.

'A minority,' More said.

'A minority that is gaining in support and momentum every day, the quicker word spreads,' Henry replied.

'Which is why you should be trying to rid your country of it!' More exclaimed.

'You want me to be more like you Thomas?' Henry asked scornfully, 'Burn people? Watch them die? They are still my people, and I will be labelled a tyrant for killing people simply for them having differing beliefs.'

'They are a disease and should be burned like any plague, It is God's will,' More said passionately.

'Really?' Henry asked 'In Leviticus it says "Whoever takes a human life shall surely be put to death." Mathew states that "you shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment."'

More stared at the King in shock. He had always known Henry was bright, confident and with an intelligence that was impressive, however never had he known him to be able to put forth such arguments with ease and tranquillity.

'This is true,' More replied nodding.

'Then aren't you committing heresy by burning these people? If it was God's will that they be put to death surely one of his angels would have come for them by now. The sweating sickness was proof of God's anger with Catholicism and its corrupt churches, it targeted this country for a reason!' Henry said.

'I believe that if it wasn't for Lady Anne Boleyn, you would have been burning these people yourself, I believe you are exploiting religion and these situations to suit your own ends,' More said.

'You speak out of turn!' Henry snapped stepping forwards menacingly.

'Forgive me, my majesty,' More replied bowing low.

'I let you get away with a lot of things More, I allow you far more liberties than anyone else in my court. I let you speak your mind, and voice your opinions because I value your council. However in this matter you are mistaken.' Henry said.

'Yes your majesty,' More replied dutifully.

'It is true, that if it weren't for Anne, I would have never come to know the new faith. However I read the books of my own free will, the arguments are very concise, there is no superstition or twisted meanings, it is clear in English for all to read of every station, no one is raised above the other, it speaks of a utopia, that I am sure you could appreciate.' Henry said.

'The pope is God's will on earth,' More tried.

'No,' Henry denied, 'The King in his own Kingdom answers to God. The pope is a corrupt old man that lies in a palace more extravagant than mine, whilst he amuses himself with fine food, lavish clothes, and the favours of prostitutes. The Catholic Church is corrupt. He control the wills of Kings and their countries without even visiting them, without even knowing them. Well, I won't allow it here any longer, my eyes have been opened Thomas. And that of my people too, I believe this will lead England into a golden age.'

'I believe It will end in civil war,' More replied.

'Then I believe it is time you resigned as chancellor and went home to your family.'

'Your majesty?' More asked shocked.

'I cannot have my own chancellor aiming for different goals than my own, it would be immoral and confusing to my people, and to my court,' Henry replied.

'I see,' More replied looking down.

'When Anne is made Queen, which she will be very soon,' Henry stated confidently 'Will you accept her?'

More stared at the King in shock. He put so much faith in Lady Anne, he believed wholeheartedly that she would be the making of England. He could not disagree more. She would replace a noble and brilliant Queen, simply because she could no longer bear children. Henry could talk all he wanted about his people and what was best for the kingdom. But More knew the truth; above all else Henry longed for a son, and if Anne gave him one, her hold over him would be complete.

'Queen Catherine, is a daughter of Kings, she is an able ruler; just, kind and a daughter of Spain. If you cast her aside, the people will not forgive you,' More said confidently.

'Ah, that's where you are wrong,' Henry replied stepping forwards and looking More straight in the eye.

'Catherine is a traitor, she holds no respect for the English people, she sneaks and she hides, and she sends messages to Spain inciting that nephew of hers to war. She schemes against me, and her true allegiance will never be to me, I have seen the proof,' Henry replied.

'She loves you.'

'She loves being Queen, the role she was always told she would have since birth. All women possess vanity Thomas, and although Catherine hides hers well, I see through her. She has been raised to be a Queen, she knows nothing else, she is fighting this with all her strength not out of love, or because she believes she is in the right, but because she is afraid. She is afraid that if she is removed as Queen, she won't know what to do with herself, she will have no more money or servants or lavish palaces and soft beds. She will be replaced, and the people will move on, she will be forgotten, that is why she fights this Thomas,' Henry said forcefully.

'The people will never turn on her,' More replied resolutely.

'But they already have,' Henry said smirking, 'when was the last time, you went outside? You have been so caught up in your heretic hunting that you have failed to realise that the people's favour is moving in a different direction my friend.'

More was in shock. It was true that he had not been around the commoners in a while. In truth he struggled to remember when the last time was. He had believed that controlling the heretics had been much more important, but now he realised that perhaps his attentions had been misdirected. If what Henry said was true and Catherine was losing favour with the people, then there was no chance of her remaining Queen.

'Will you resign?' Henry asked again after his silence.

'Of course, your majesty, I will present to you my seal of office in due course,' More replied.

'Will you go quietly?' Henry asked 'Or do I have to banish you?'

'Your Majesty?'

'I know you are a clever man Thomas, and although your popularity has diminished due to your recent actions, I am sure you will try to spread an alternative message throughout London.' Henry said.

'I love you far too much to go against you Henry,' Thomas said tearing up 'I will never support you in this, it goes against everything I believe in, but I will not speak against you either.'

'Thank you my friend,' and with that Henry held out his hand for Thomas to shake in a rare slip of formality.

'Good luck Harry,' More said and with one last glance, he turned and removed himself from the King's presence.

* * *

Anne Saville was content with her lot in the world. Serving as a Ladies maid to Lady Anne Boleyn had been exciting and scary all at the same time. She was proud to work and serve such a lady, she had never seen a woman so intelligent or so beautiful before. But rather than be jealous of her, Nan had become fond of her, protective even, and she admired her greatly.

She had been her ladies maid for a while now, and was very looking forward to when Anne would be made Queen. Nan Saville truly believed that she would be a wonderful Queen. She herself had seen first-hand all the things Anne was doing for the people in London and her plans for the city, she genuinely cared about them, and in return the people cared about her.

She was honoured that Anne spoke to her in confidence and was unofficially listed as her favourite. She helped her bathe and chose her clothes, gossiped about the latest fashions and spoke about trifling matters, and discussed which men they thought was best looking. Obviously Anne always said the King was the most beautiful, which Nan supposed he was, and he clearly loved her mistress very much. Being Anne's lady was fun, she learnt a lot from her, and in return she was a loyal companion. To her it was no great mystery as to why the King was in love with her mistress. Her intelligence was matched only by her beauty and her only faults seemed to be vanity and a hot temper, things that could be easily forgiven.

Nan was taking a well-earned walk around the gardens and although it was a cold and crisp day in early January, the sun was still shining on England as if happy at what it saw. She was in the royal gardens, usually out of bounds for servants but Anne had given her permission, and through her the King. Anne was kind to her that way, lavishing gifts on her ranging from jewellery to simple things like access to the royal gardens.

As she was walking she heard a murmur of voices and walked carefully around the corner straightening her clothing then immediately backed out of sight as she came upon the Queen and ambassador Mendoza seated outside on a bench underneath a large tree. The Queen's ladies were not in attendance which shocked Nan as she quietly observed the pair.

They were speaking Spanish in hushed tones and Nan did not know the language which frustrated her, if her mistress had been here, she would have had no problem deciphering their words. Anne had a gift for languages.

The conversation between the two seemed intimate, almost forlorn even. Suddenly Mendoza stood up and bowed low to the Queen, and she stared back at him. Nan watched as the Queen reached into her purse and withdrew a beautiful piece of jewellery and handed it to Mendoza who bent over her hand and kissed it.

A token of affection perhaps?

Nan was shocked, it wasn't right for a Queen to be handing out jewellery to Spanish ambassadors, nor to any man. The jewels were the property of England, not hers to simply give to whichever man she pleased. Nan was furious but was unsure of how to react.

She considered her options and realised, that she did not have the necessary cunning or wit in which to decide what to do, and came to the right conclusion that her mistress should know about this. Turning on her heel Nan picked up her skirts and raced back to Whitehall eager to tell Anne everything.

* * *

'You are sure of this?' Henry asked Anne grasping her shoulders.

'Of course my love, my lady would not lie,' Anne replied.

When Nan had rushed into her rooms earlier, Anne had been sure something had happened to the King or George judging by the desperate look on her face. But what she had told Anne had shocked her in a different way. She never would have thought Catherine could be so stupid. She was usually so faultless, so without scruple, and now she had made a mistake. Anne would strike, and she would strike hard.

By befriending Mendoza, Catherine had unknowingly lost. Anne had been certain they would have prevailed eventually with everything set for Cranmer to become archbishop, but now she knew that Catherine's ship was well and truly sunk. In joy she had spun Nan around and quizzed her relentlessly determined to get all the facts right. They could not afford to get this wrong.

'Perhaps she was mistaken?' Henry asked cautiously.

He was struggling to believe that Catherine of Aragon, daughter of Isabella and Ferdinand could behave so recklessly, giving her favour to another man, jewels of England, Anne's future inheritance! It was not to be borne. He was shocked, he was angry. He knew that Catherine had been untrue to him and now this proved it.

He could not rationalise the young loving woman he had thought he had loved with the bitter overly pious woman he knew now. Perhaps it had been the loss of so many children, perhaps it was guilt over her lies about her relations with Arthur. But without a doubt, Catherine had changed. She had always prided herself on being a daughter of Spain and of Royal blood. But she had been an English Queen and wife, her first duty should have been to him and to the country she served. Instead she was giving a Spanish commoner English jewels to lord about.

'Nan wasn't mistaken, she was very clear, I trust her,' Anne replied looking at him earnestly.

'It upsets me, that she has lied and betrayed me this much,' Henry said.

'I will never do that to you,' Anne said lovingly stepping forwards and cupping his cheek.

'I know my love. You are my saviour, my angel, you have opened my eyes to true devotion and love, everything that a wife should be, and everything that she isn't,' Henry replied.

'This our chance Henry,' Anne replied gazing at him, forcing him to look into her eyes 'When word spreads of this, our way will be clear.'

'We can be together,' Henry smiled.

'Yes,' Anne replied smiling 'Cranmer will declare the marriage invalid, and finally we can have sons!'

'Oh Anne!' Henry exclaimed cupping her face with both hands and kissed her passionately.

'I will order Mendoza investigated and his person and belongings searched,' Henry said breaking apart finally.

'And then?' Anne replied.

'And then I will decide how to act,' Henry replied.

* * *

Mendoza was in court taking leave of the few courtiers he knew fondly, he had stayed away from Norfolk and Boleyn, but many others he bid a fond farewell too. Chapuys would be taking his place, and although he was happy to be returning to Spain, he hated leaving the Queen.

She truly was a remarkable lady. Tranquil and serene in the face of her circumstances. He truly believed that she would triumph. It was God's will. He admitted to himself that he was fond of her, not only for her character and nature but also in appearance. She looked every inch the Spanish lady, and retained the fashions from Spain. Not the whorish fashions that Boleyn girl was prancing around in. She looked like royalty and Mendoza couldn't help but admire her from afar.

Secretly he ran a hand over his pocket caressing the contents through the material. He had been shocked when she had handed him one of her jewelled broaches. It was magnificent and obviously pricey. But what had astonished him the most was the look she sent him to accompany it. She had gazed at him with misery and with longing, and he could not work out why.

Misery over her situation perhaps? Longing for everything to be as it once was? Or was it more than that? They had been close, sharing several private conversations and taking him into her council and confidence. She spoke freely to him and smiled at him often. He dare not believe that such a woman could harbour any sort of attachment to him, yet he could not help but consider it, and to his own shame, he hoped ever so slightly that those were her reasons for gazing at him so. It was childish, he knew nothing could ever happen, but it was nice to be able to dream.

The doors to court opened and in strolled Sir Anthony Knivert, the King's new favourite since Suffolk had been banished. He was accompanied by Norfolk and a trio of armed guards and were heading in his direction. He frowned at their approach but bowed low as they came towards him.

'Ambassador Mendoza,' Sir Anthony said loudly drawing the gaze of the surrounding courtiers.

'Sir Anthony, your grace,' Mendoza said bowing to each in turn with a pleasant smile.

'On order of his majesty the King, you are under arrest on suspicion of high treason,' Knivert said confidently.

Mendoza felt his heart plummet and his mind race. He had committed no crime!

'On what grounds? Please gentleman, be sure of your accusations and remember who my King is,' Mendoza threatened.

'And you should remember who _ours_ is, and in which country you are,' Norfolk snapped and with a hand gesture motioned for the guards to step forwards.

He gasped in shock, as did all the courtiers who had surrounded him to watch, muttering and whispering when they heard the accusations. The guards grabbed him forcefully by the arms and turned him to face the wall bracing him against it. Knivert stepped forwards and started patting him down searching for something.

Mendoza's heart plummeted further, this time in fear as he realised what they were searching for. In vain he struggled but Knivert's hands dipped into his pockets and amid gasps from the crowd withdrew The Queens broach.

'This is part of the Queen of England's jewels,' Knivert said loudly and for all to hear.

Mendoza was too shocked to reply. He could say he stole it, and likely lose a hand or a finger to the crime. Or he could claim it was given to him by the Queen and incite rumours and suspicion on the very lady he was trying to protect. He was far too nervous to make a decision and floundered for a response.

'That's okay,' Norfolk replied smugly 'You can think of an excuse during your stay in the Tower.'

He was then dragged out of the court room as shocked courtiers gazed on. As he was leaving, his gaze was captured by a figure towards one of the stairwells leading to the apartments. In the shadows stood Anne Boleyn her blue eyes shining like orbs as they stared at him through the darkness. A smug satisfied smile graced her face.

He closed his eyes in defeat and resisted struggling for freedom. He had lost. Catherine had lost. Spain had lost. There was no way back from this.

* * *

 **If you have seen the scene between Catherine and Mendoza early in season 2 you will see how I have drawn this scene up. Something defo going on there!**

 **Dum dum dum…..**

 **Well, what do you think?**


	10. Chapter 10

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

 **Longest chapter yet so you guys had better appreciate it!**

* * *

'I want him questioned,' Henry said speaking to Cromwell in his privy chamber.

By now all of court new that the Spanish ambassador had been arrested. The news had also spread into London and people were clamouring for any bit of news.

'Yes your majesty,' Cromwell responded.

'I want the truth, I want to hear what he is going to say, before I speak to the Queen,' Henry replied.

He had forbidden the Queen to leave her rooms, only her ladies were allowed to remain. He was allowing no chance for any letter to reach Mendoza so they could formulate a strategy. He would hear both accounts and from there, the truth would come out.

'Do not use torture,' Henry stated.

'And if he refuses to speak?' Cromwell asked.

'He won't refuse to speak, not when he know this implements the Queen,' Henry replied.

'Very well your majesty,' Cromwell nodded.

'Also send a letter to the Emperor informing him of everything,' Henry said.

'Your majesty, forgive me is that such a wise idea?' Cromwell dared to ask.

'Word will get back to him if I do not write, it is better it comes from me and he knows the truth,' Henry replied.

'And if he retaliates?

'How can he? Mendoza has one of the Queen's jewels on his person, it is a crime, and the Emperor should recognise this.'

'Of course your majesty,' Cromwell replied, then turned to leave with his task.

* * *

'Ambassador Mendoza I believe you know why you are here?' Cromwell said, not glancing at the man and surveying his room instead.

It was not a common cell where they kept most prisoners. The King had been wise enough to ensure the man had relative comfort until proven guilty. It was cold and dank however, and with no windows. The man in question was pale and nervous without his usual flair and pride. He was obviously nervous and doing nothing to hide the fact.

'Yes master Cromwell,' Mendoza replied.

'The King would like to hear your explanation,' Cromwell replied and took a seat directly in front of the man, giving him nowhere to look but at himself.

'May I have legal counsel?' Mendoza replied.

'No English lawyer will stand for you your excellency,' Cromwell replied.

'Then one from Spain?' Mendoza asked.

'Indeed, the King has sent a letter to the Emperor, however it will take time for such a person to come, if indeed your King chooses to send one. Also, her majesty the Queen is under house arrest, and will remain so until you make a statement.'

'The Queen has not spoken of this matter yet?' Mendoza not.

'Indeed not, the King would like your account first,' Cromwell replied.

Mendoza was shrewd enough to see what was happening here. The King was forcing him to speak first, so that he would have no knowledge of what the Queen would say in advance. He could not protect her. He had two choices, he could lie and say he stole it, which would mean he would likely lose a hand. But this would be moot unless Catherine also claimed he stole it. He was not sure the lady would lie, she was devout and honourable, and she would tell the truth. But if she did she would lose her crown, and could be tried for treason. She was an intelligent woman, she would know this.

Mendoza began to sweat as he stared at Cromwell, internally debating what to do. He could refuse to answer and wait for a Spanish lawyer that may or may not come. And if he did wait, the Queen would be cut off from court, cut off from her supporters and her daughter. She would lose her already limited popularity.

'What is taking so long, your excellency?' Cromwell mocked, 'I should have thought the truth would be an easy thing to tell.'

Mendoza stared up at the man in hatred. He did not know him well, but he knew he was clever, with a fierce cunning, and loyalty towards the King. He had been elevated higher, than any would have thought, much like the harlot Anne Boleyn. Yet it was these commoners that held power now, they were changing England, and it left Mendoza baffled.

'I stole it,' Mendoza decided.

'Really?' Cromwell asked.

'Yes, I am ashamed of it, but could not help myself,' Mendoza replied.

'I see,' Cromwell replied quietly staring at him.

Mendoza felt his heart beating wondering what the man was thinking. Had he lied? Had Catherine already given a statement? Did her words refute his? Was there other evidence he did not know about?

'Well, I shall inform the King and see what is to be done,' Cromwell said almost pleasantly, and Mendoza hated him for his tranquillity and serenity when he was in the face of such a situation. He resolved to hold his tongue though, and give no more details. If he gave more information, it could be easily deciphered, lies were best when they were simple and easy to remember. He would not speak anymore.

* * *

Anne had been planning to go into town today to buy some of the local produce, however had been prevented by stomach cramps and had stayed in her apartments instead. She hated being ill, as it kept her inside.

Anne had never liked being inside, much preferring the outdoors. She was a lot like Henry in that matter. Her earliest memories was of her father teaching her to ride. She had been so young and carefree then, and thinking of her father brought a pang to her heart. How had he changed so much from a loving father into a vain power hungry man, who cared more for money instead of the love of his own children?

George had not spoken much since the incident in her rooms. She had quietly asked him about her father and he had responded with a cool 'well enough.'

She had told him it wasn't her fault, and George knew it wasn't. He was just taking longer to come round to the idea that their father wasn't the man they thought he had been.

'His majesty the King!'

Anne heard the announcement from her main chamber and made to get up but a sharp pain caused her to lie back down swiftly.

Henry burst into the room, his gaze immediately lying on Anne who was propped up in bed, fully clothed in a gown of emerald green, but devoid of the jewellery and ornaments she usually wore, and instead had her hair down in her natural curls, that were not as tight and perfect, as when Nan worked her magic. She was beautiful.

'I heard you were ill!' The King exclaimed rushing forward to sit next her and taking her hand.

'It's nothing, just stomach pain,' Anne said, quietly leaving out that it probably signalled the start of her courses.

'Have you sent for Linacre?' Henry asked.

'Of course not, it's perfectly normal Henry,' Anne laughed.

Henry stared at her confused for a few seconds until his brain worked itself up to a conclusion.

'Oh!' he laughed and flushed.

'Come Henry, if we are to be married you will have to get used to these things,' Anne teased.

'In the past I have never cared,' Henry said honestly, 'Catherine always kept everything deeply private and said not a word except to inform me that she was not with child, and the women I saw separately never mentioned anything.'

'Well I want to share things with you,' Anne smiled.

'I want that too,' Henry smiled, 'I love your body, everything about it, and I want to know about it.'

'Will you require inspections?' Anne teased her eyelids lowering and her lips pursing into a seductive face.

Henry stared entranced.

Giggling Anne shifted slightly exposing one shapely leg by lifting her skirt. And she raised one hand to stroke at the top of her bosom, from where her corset pushed them up.

'Anne,' Henry breathed.

'Yes my love?' Anne said leaning forwards slightly and biting one lip.

'You are ill,' Henry said, whilst still leaning forwards into her space.

'Ill from being apart from you, sick from my body longing for yours, dying with every breath that your lips are not on mine.' With her last word she leaned forwards and gently bit his lower lip dragging it upwards and then soothing it with her tongue.

Henry couldn't help himself and fell on top of her burying his face in her neck and sucking there, whilst his hands traced her body through her dress.

A gasp of pain stopped him as one of Anne's hands flew to her stomach and he instantly pulled back frightened of hurting her.

'Anne?' He asked worried.

'Sorry my love, just you being here in my bed makes me hot with passion,' Anne laughed.

'It is the same for me my love,' Henry laughed leaning in to kiss her cheek once more before pulling back.

'I heard Mendoza is in the tower?' Anne asked trying to calm things down with serious talk.

'Yes, Cromwell came to me with his story,' Henry said.

'And?'

'He claims he stole it.' Henry scoffed.

'But we have a witness,' Anne replied knowing the man had lied.

'I know,' Henry assured her.

'What will you do?' Anne asked, 'Question the Queen?'

'No,' Henry replied 'I want her explanation to be live in court for the whole of England to hear.'

'But what if it doesn't work out well, and she doesn't say the right thing?' Anne asked worried.

On the one hand this was a great idea, by trying Catherine without prior warning or questioning, she would be given no time to prepare as Mendoza's statements were told to her. Her reactions would speak volumes. But Anne new Catherine was not a stupid woman, granted she didn't possesses a depth of cunning or wit but neither was she a dullard. She had successfully drawn this out and halted their divorce, not by her own intelligence but by sneaking off to her nephew.

'By tomorrow, this could all be over,' Henry said smiling at her.

'And if it doesn't work that way?' Anne asked.

'Then we carry on as before and Cranmer will soon reach a verdict on our marriage,' Henry replied.

'Okay,' Anne smiled back reaching out to take his hand.

'I love you,' Henry said sincerely.

'And I you,' Anne replied.

* * *

The court was full to the brim with people, the front benches were taken up with courtiers but the back was filled with the common people who had been allowed in. In front of the audience were the bishops and cardinals who lined the sides of the court with Henry on one side and a vacant seat in the other which would soon be filled by Catherine.

Anne was sitting with her uncle and brother on the front row and was smiling encouragement at Henry despite the nerves she felt. She had been heartened to hear the common people call out her name in support, calling on God to bless her. It was heartening to know that all her hard work was paying off.

Cranmer was leading the trial and was in the middle of the room between Henry and the vacant chair. Soon when Henry was declared head of the church, he could try the cases himself. But would not be beneficial to do so now.

'People of England, we are here today to discuss a serious matter, which involves our most trusted Queen and friend, Ambassador Mendoza.' Cranmer started. 'I call on King Henry to give an opening statement.'

Henry rose gracefully, nodded to Cranmer and turned to address the audience.

'As you all know, I have been pursuing a great matter which strikes my conscience,' Henry said 'I am intending to annul my marriage to Catherine of Aragon, who I believe thinks has committed no fault, and believes our marriage to be legal. However this is a lie, she has lied to me, to her country and also to you, her people. She would have you believe that she is a loving wife, and a dutiful Queen, but the evidence today will show the opposite, that she is an unfit wife and an unfit Queen of England.'

Henry bowed his head and returned to his seat.

'Bring in Ambassador Mendoza,' Cranmer called.

Mendoza shuffled in looking slightly bedraggled and haggard but with no signs of damage and torture, just a few nights of rough sleep. Anne was glad that no harsh methods had been used, they had to keep this procedure as calm as possible, they could not fear angering the Emperor, everything had to be legal and proper in order for them to succeed.

'Ambassador Mendoza, you are accused of adultery, and possession of foreign property, how do you plead?' Cranmer asked.

'Not guilty to adultery and guilty of possession of foreign property,' Mendoza stated his eyes downcast.

'In the eyes of God I ask you to give your statement of how you came to have the Queen's jewellery upon you?' Cranmer asked.

'I stole it,' Mendoza replied trying to give little details as possible.

'How?' Cranmer asked.

Mendoza refused to reply.

'Did you sneak into her rooms? Bribe one of her ladies?' Cranmer asked.

'It was in her room, and temptation was too great,' Mendoza decided.

Henry held his breath and he realised the Spaniard had made his first mistake, and grinned as Cranmer pounced.

'What were you doing in her majesty's rooms in the first place?' Cranmer asked.

Mendoza paled and realised he had made a mistake, but he couldn't back track now. He had no time to think of a reply so instead he said nothing stalling.

'I asked you a question?' Cranmer asked.

'I was having an audience with her majesty,' Mendoza said.

'About what?' Cranmer replied.

'The King's great matter,' Mendoza replied.

'Why did you not have this conversation somewhere public instead of in the Queen's apartments?' Cranmer asked. 'You realise this implies wrong doing?'

'Her ladies were with us,' Mendoza replied.

'Really?' Cranmer asked again.

'Yes,' Mendoza said confidently. If he claimed they were chaperoned then no one could claim that he had committed any sin.

'I call Lady Jane Guilford, lady in waiting to Queen Catherine, as witness,' Cranmer's voice rang out.

Henry smiled. He and Cranmer had planned this very carefully. They were not committing perjury, they had simply asked the girl, who had served Henry's mother as lady in waiting, and now Catherine to tell the truth in the eyes of God. Henry knew the girl was loyal to Catherine, but he also knew that she had a strong moral conscience and would not lie. Indeed he watched as the lady came up with red eyes which were slowly shedding tears.

'Lady Jane, you are one of her majesty's ladies in waiting?' Cranmer asked.

'Yes sir,' she replied.

'Are you willing to tell the truth in the eyes of God and this country?' Cranmer asked, watching as the girl sobbed.

'Yes sir,' she replied.

'To your knowledge has the Queen ever, had an affair with Ambassador Mendoza?' Cranmer asked.

'No,' she replied shakily.

'I see.'

Mendoza felt his heart plummet. They had witnesses! He and Catherine had committed no sin, but with this lady's testimony they could certainly make it seem like they had.

'Did you observe Ambassador Mendoza with the Queen at any time?' Cranmer asked.

'Yes sir,' Jane replied.

'When? Cranmer asked.

'The Queen called him to her rooms, to discuss things, but I don't know what they talked about,' Jane insisted.

'And why is it that you don't know what they were talking about?' Cranmer asked.

Jane stuttered, and gasped and looked from Mendoza to the King and then Cranmer.

'I would remind you that you are under oath,' Cranmer said.

'She told us…' Jane started then took a deep breath then started again, 'she told us to leave the room.'

'She was alone in her rooms with the Ambassador?' Cranmer asked to gasps from the whole court.

'Yes sir.'

'At any other times to your knowledge was she alone with the Ambassador?' Cranmer asked.

'She would often meet him in the gardens, but we were always in attendance, but they spoke in Spanish, and often told us to remain behind so we could not overhear them.' Jane said. Her face was blotchy now and red and she looked desperately miserable. Anne felt sorry for her, but also happy that she was intending to tell the truth.

'Where was the Queen when this incident took place?' Cranmer asked referring to the jewellery.

'The Queen was at prayer,' Jane said.

'She told you this?' Cranmer asked.

'Yes, she told us she was not to be disturbed,' Jane replied confidently.

'But she could have lied? Gone somewhere else perhaps?' Cranmer asked.

'The Queen would not lie,' Jane said.

'I see, thank you lady Jane you may step down.' Cranmer said.

Henry thought this was going well, if they could establish that Catherine had lied about her whereabouts to her ladies it would imply concealment. And concealment implied suspicion. He forced himself not to grin and smirk in confidence.

'I call her majesty the Queen, Catherine of Aragon to give her statement,' Cranmer called.

Catherine entered the hall looking very dour in Anne's opinion. Dressed in her usual sombre colours and grave regal expression. She smirked as the commoners jeered at her and called her traitor. How times had changed.

She sank into a deep curtsey when reaching the floor, and directed a smile at Henry that made Anne's stomach turn. She didn't deserve to look at him! She had been gifted with the best prince in the world and she was freely giving out the gifts he gifted to her, to other men! It was not to be borne. She was glad when Henry remained stone faced and harsh and glared at her.

'Your majesty, an alarming incident has occurred in which Ambassador Mendoza has been found in possession of one of your official jewels,' Cranmer stated.

'I see.' Catherine replied frowning at the floor.

Anne could tell she was calculating what to say. She observed her glance to Mendoza, no doubt weighing up what he had already said. But without the knowledge of it, Anne knew it was difficult for her to decide what to say.

'Do you have any knowledge as to why the Ambassador would be in possession of one of your valuable pieces of jewellery?' Cranmer asked.

'I gave it to him,' Catherine replied calmly head held high.

Anne observed as the whole hall erupted in cries of outrage and shock, he watched as Mendoza's face shot up to stare at Catherine in dismay. She wondered what the Queen was planning. Surely she would not go down without a fight?

'When?' Cranmer asked after calling for order.

'On Friday in my rooms, with my ladies present,' Catherine said.

Anne smirked triumphant. She had lied, she knew she had made a mistake by being alone with him and was trying to cover up the fact. Anne could have squealed with delight and joy and saw Henry try to conceal his smirk also.

'Lady Jane Guilford has just given testimony that you told your ladies you were at mass,' Cranmer said.

Anne watched as Catherine flinched slightly and appeared to be thinking quickly.

'This was after that,' Catherine insisted.

'Lady jane was not present?' Cranmer asked.

'No,' she replied.

'Why did you give the Ambassador the jewellery your majesty?' Cranmer asked.

'As a reward for helping me and being a loyal friend,' Catherine replied.

'It was not a romantic token? Cranmer asked.

'Of course not,' she replied affronted.

'Do you think it right to be giving out English jewellery to foreigners madam?' Cranmer asked.

'I see now it was a mistake, but it was meant in good faith,' Catherine replied.

'I see,' Cranmer replied. With this he dismissed Catherine from the stand but she was escorted to the benches not out of the hall.

'I call Lady Anne Saville to give testimony,' Cranmer called.

Anne smiled as she watched her lady and friend get up confidently and walk with the grace and elegance that Anne had taught her. She had coached her well, taught her how to speak confidently in front of an audience.

Mendoza did not understand why this lady was being called. He knew that she was a servant to the harlot, but wondered at what sort of evidence she could have against him.

Catherine felt her heart plummet as Anne's lady was called. She knew the witch would have something to do with this. She prayed that the girl would slip up.

'Lady Anne you swear to tell the truth in the eyes of God?' Cranmer asked.

'I do,' Nan replied confidently glancing back at Anne, who nodded in encouragement.

'You are a witness to the events when this happened?' Cranmer asked.

'Yes sir,'

'Where did this take place?' Cranmer asked.

'Outside in the royal gardens,' Nan replied sticking to the facts and not embellishing as Anne had taught her.

'Not the ladies apartments?'

'No sir.'

'May I ask why you were there in the first place?'

'The King had given me permission to walk there as a reward for good service,' Nan said.

'I see.'

Catherine felt like her heart was falling out of her chest. They had been seen! There was no way back from this, her mouth felt dry and her skin hot and she struggled to remain calm. Her eyes unconsciously rose and found their way to Anne Boleyn's who were staring straight at her. The deep blue of her eyes visible from here. She knew she had lost.

Mendoza felt his heart break. Not only would it be proven that he had lied. They now had proof that the Queen had lied. With this proof they would no longer believe a word she said, especially since she had done so under oath. Her denial of consummation with Prince Arthur would be overturned. It was over.

'Tell me what happened,' Cranmer stated.

'I was walking in the royal gardens, on Friday afternoon. As I reached a section I heard sounds of voices speaking in Spanish.' Nan stated.

'Do you speak Spanish Mistress Saville?' Cranmer asked.

'No sir,' Nan said.

'Very well, continue.'

'I rounded the corner and was shocked to observe the Queen unescorted and without chaperone sitting next to Ambassador Mendoza in close proximity,' Nan said.

'I see.'

'Their heads were bent together and to me their expressions seemed sad almost longing,' Nan continued.

'Continue,' Cranmer said.

'Mendoza stood up, and went to walk away, but the Queen called him back, and reached into her dress and gave him a broach from the Queen's collection, The ambassador knelt before her and took her hand kissed it and pocketed the jewel. They held hands a long time before finally he walked away,' Nan finished relieved for it to be over.

The court was in uproar as everyone realised both the Queen and the Ambassador had lied. Their stories did not match up and two witnesses refuted their claims. The noise was loud and over bearing and Anne watched as Nan was carefully escorted off and Cranmer loudly called for order before calling Catherine back to the floor. Catherine's eyes were downcast and her shoulders were slumped.

'Your majesty?' Cranmer asked gazing at her with hard eyes.

'It was an innocent token, nothing more,' Catherine insisted her voice pleading.

'If it was innocent then why lie?' Cranmer asked.

Catherine gave no answer and Anne felt a curious sort of pity for the great lady and she watched as a lone tear ran down her cheek.

'You have lied before the eyes of God your majesty, two witnesses clearly place you at different places at the time. One says you were at mass, the other in the gardens. You say you have not been alone with the man in question and yet two witnesses say differently,' Cranmer said.

Still Catherine gave no answer knowing that there was no point. She had lost, not only the trial, but the whole matter. Charles would not support her now, not with such damming evidence. She would be cast off, and forgotten about. She worried for her safety, as she listened to the catcalls of the common people and the glares from the courtiers. She feared for Mary, who would no doubt be declared illegitimate. Mary loved her with a passion and was devoted to her. She would not accept this, and it would place strain on her relationship with her father. Catherine was scared.

'In light of this, I cannot trust your testimony that you were indeed untouched upon entering the marriage bed of Prince Arthur, there are no blood stained sheets, and no living son to prove otherwise, the pope's dispensation was not in line with God's law. The marriage is unholy before God and by theological issue, as major universities from France, England and Italy have all declared the union invalid. In light of this, I declare the marriage between Catherine of Aragon and King Henry the Eighth void, and hereby grant the King his divorce.' Cranmer stated.

The people shot to their feet and cheered and Anne laughed as her brother hugged her and kissed her cheek. The courtiers seemed shocked but were accepting of the decision. Henry was on his feet appearing calm and regal but Anne could see the spark in his eyes.

'Furthermore, in light of this, I can confirm that parliament has agreed, that King Henry the eighth be made head of the Church of England, defender of the faith, and ruler of matters both spiritual and temporal,' Cranmer said bowing to the King.

It was over, it was done! After all these years it was finished. He had rid himself of the woman that had lied to him for so long. He looked out at the crowd delighted to see them happy and enthusiastic to change. He motioned to the guard and gave quiet orders for the now princess dowager to be escorted back to her rooms until further notice and for Mendoza to be returned to the tower for sentencing.

He would deal with them later, right now he only had eyes for one person, and his eyes found her glistening blue orbs that were crying with happiness. And with a smile he beckoned her to come up to the floor. Amid cheers, Anne gracefully left her seat and walked slowly towards the king, her love.

Finally they were free, it had all been worth it. No longer would they have to hide, no longer would Anne have to endure Catherine's presence and claim on her love. He was hers, and she was his. All the pain and years of waiting had been worth it. She couldn't wait to finally start her life with him. It wasn't becoming Queen that she looked forward to, but the fact the she could finally openly boast and show to the world how much she loved this man.

Walking towards him she couldn't restrain herself, as to even louder cheers from the common people she picked up her skirts and ran towards Henry who laughed and caught her in his arms. Uncaring of the audience he swung her around, and held her tightly, relishing the fact that he could now do so without fear or prejudice. He had what he wanted, and it was perfect.

He set her down on her feet, and gave her a loving kiss, loving the fact that his people were clearly pleased with the public display.

Slowly he backed away, and then daringly he slid down onto one knee to gasps from the crowd who instantly quietened.

'Anne Boleyn, you have captured my heart and ensnared my soul, my love for you is eternal. Never have I met a woman more beautiful, intelligent and kind. You are like no other woman I have ever known, and no one can compare to you.' Henry paused for breath and blushed as he felt a tear escape one eye. 'In the view of all these people, I humbly ask you to be my beloved wife and become my Queen?'

Anne giggled and laughed and smiled. Never had she felt such happiness. Henry the eighth the love of her life, her soul mate was on bended knee, before his court, council and people, and was asking her publicly to be his wife and Queen. She sniffed struggling not to cry.

'Henry, you are the love of my life, and I will spend the rest of my days, trying to make you happy, and to be a good Queen, of course I will marry you,' Anne replied loudly for all to hear.

The crowd erupted in applause again and Henry surged to his feet to kiss her again before drawing her into a loving embrace. Finally his great matter had been resolved. Tomorrow he would have to deal with Catherine and Mendoza. Tomorrow he would have to deal with the fact that England had just officially renounced the pope and Catholicism, and the consequences that would bring. But for now, he just wanted to be Henry the man, not the king, and enjoy a few precious seconds in the arms of the woman he loved.

* * *

 **There we go! Catherine is finally gone. Will Henry arrest her for treason? Will he have Mendoza killed? How will Rome react? How will Spain react? This story is far from finished folks!**


	11. Chapter 11

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

 ** _Sorry for the wait guys, work happened._**

* * *

'Did you hear?'

'About the Queen?'

'Soon to be ex Queen you mean?'

'Apparently she was having it off with the Spaniard, admitted it the whole court!'

'What do you think the King will do?'

'She should be burned for treason!'

A rousing roar of agreement went up around the inn as men slammed their tankards down on the table as agreement. News of Catherine's demise had spread like fire, and the people of England rallied against her.

'That Boleyn girl will make a good Queen.'

'Aye, she's one of us.'

'She's not a traitorous foreigner,' others called out.

As quickly as Catherine had fallen, Anne had risen very quickly. Her efforts in improving local trade and welfare had been received with warmth. The King's public proposal and profession of love had proven endearing also, as the people loved to see their beloved King happy. A happy ruler meant a happy kingdom. A coronation and wedding had yet to be announced but everyone assumed that it would not be long.

* * *

Henry strolled down the corridors of Whitehall with a serious look about him. He was going to see Catherine, from where he had imprisoned her in her rooms. He could not put her in the tower, no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much she had betrayed him, she was still the mother of his daughter.

He did not know how to deal with this. After the trial when everything had been uncovered he had been deliriously happy, he and Anne could finally be open in their love. Finally England would have a Queen they deserved. But he had spent many years with Catherine, and he could not deny that it hurt to think of her betrayal. He also did not know how to proceed. Technically she had committed treason and could be put to death, but the thought repulsed him. Anne had advised against it also, her compassion knowing no bounds. But also he knew that Spain would not look kindly on the daughter of Isabella and Ferdinand being executed, no matter what her crime.

The new Spanish Ambassador, Chapuys had arrived swiftly following his letter to Charles. He had assured him that the emperor was shocked and outraged by his servants conduct and was deeply troubled by Catherine's betrayal. He had asked for mercy, and to look upon her with kindness. Henry freely admitted that part of him wanted her dragged through the streets for daring to humiliate him in such a way. But another part of him, the more rational side of him acknowledged that it was done. He and Anne had won, they were free to marry, and Anne was free to be Queen. The Emperor would not oppose it, the people did not oppose it, and now that he was head of the Church of England, the church could not oppose it.

Coming to her chambers Henry sighed and stared at the door framed by two guards. They looked at him questionably, but he did not give the command for them to announce him. Behind that door was a woman he had once thought he loved, a woman he would have given anything to make happy. But she had ruined them with all of their dead children, her overbearing piety, and her devotion to Spain and its King instead of England and her husband.

Sighing he nodded to the guards who opened the doors and announced him.

Catherine was in her presence chamber knelt before an altar with prayer beads grasped between her hands. Her feet were barefoot and Henry could easily see the marks and calluses that only came from maltreatment. Or in this case, Catherine's belief that pain brought her closer to God.

'Catherine,' Henry called.

He watched as she stilled and hesitantly rose to her feet, before falling into a deep curtsey and refusing to look him in the eye.

Henry did not bid her rise, and instead observed her as she struggled to keep her pose. How much she had changed from the elegant beautiful lady she had once been. Now before him was an aged tired lady, who looked as if the weight of the world had fallen on her. Her eyes which had always been dull were now surrounded by bags, and her skin drooped slightly around her face. Henry was not against older women, he had seen many beautiful women of Catherine's age and had been aroused by them more than once. But Catherine had not aged well. She was haggard and limp.

He watched with certain sadistic glee as she struggled, her legs struggling to hold her in the deep position. He ladies in the room winced with sympathy but did not speak up.

'Rise,' Henry finally commanded and almost laughed when she rose and staggered slightly.

'Husband,' Catherine said.

'Enough!' Henry yelled 'I am not and have never been you husband Catherine, we are divorced, our fake sinful marriage is at an end and finally I am free.'

Catherine bowed her head and did not reply.

'I confess I do not know how to proceed,' Henry calmed.

'Henry please believe me, it was an innocent token, nothing more,' Catherine pleaded.

'Then why the lies, why the letters to Spain promising to be a most loyal servant?' Henry begged.

'Because I was desperate,' Catherine replied hoarsely.

'Desperate to remain Queen?' Henry asked.

'Yes, rightfully so,' Catherine replied.

'You see, you want to be Queen, you enjoy the situation of life, the ease and tranquillity it gives you, but you don't want to be my wife, you don't want to please me, or obey me,' Henry said.

'That's not true,' Catherine replied hesitantly.

'You were not a virgin when we married, admit it,' Henry said striding forwards and grasping her chin, and pulling her forwards so he could see into her eyes. He snatched the prayer beads from her hand and held them up to the side of her face.

'You pray to your God so faithfully, yet you would break his law by lying and betraying your husband, tell me once and for all in the light of God, on your place in heaven, on the life of our daughter, were you a virgin?' Henry asked.

Catherine's face drained of all colour as she considered the question. She had lied about it, as she had believed it was God's intent for to be Queen, but now he had abandoned her, and her faith and her place in heaven was called into question. She could not risk Mary for the sake of a lie.

'I was not a virgin,' Catherine cried tears running down her face.

Henry stared at her and felt nothing.

He stepped back and let go of her face and considered. He had known it of course, yet part of him had hoped that the woman he had married in good faith had a shred of decency about her. It seems he was mistaken.

'You know the funny thing is,' Henry said laughing informally 'I was.'

He freely admitted that he had been a virgin when he had went to Catherine's bed. He had believed he had loved her, he was infatuated with her, and he had wanted their first time together to be perfect. He went to her bed believing they would only ever love each other. But come the morning when Catherine had hastily kicked him out, obviously to discard the proof that she was no virgin, he had not felt satisfied. The pleasure he had received had been pleasant but nothing like what he had heard about. There was no deep connection of love and passion he had read about.

He had remained faithful however, trusting that passion, love and devotion would come with time. But then there was a dead child, and another and another until Henry couldn't remember their names. His faith slipped, his doubts sprang up and he sought that connection in others. He had slept with many women and liked a few of them, but none had brought him what he was looking for.

Until Anne, his beautiful Anne, with her unbelievable exotic looks and deep crystal blue eyes that pulled at his soul. Her body, the way she moved, and the way she would look at him through her lashes. The way she danced, her eyes all the time beckoning, taunting him, promising him. He knew she was the one, he could feel it in their kisses and their embraces. Her touch igniting something in him that he had never felt before.

'You stole something from me that night Catherine,' Henry told her, his anger diminished his voice profoundly sad.

Catherine said nothing but her shoulders shook and tears leaked out of her eyes.

'Thank you for telling me the truth once and for all' Henry said.

'I am so sorry,' Catherine pleaded with him.

'For the love I bear our child I will spare you, you will leave immediately for Wales, you will relinquish your jewels and all your ladies. From now on you will live without the comfort that you have been born to. You are no Queen, you have not ever been my Queen.' Henry said resolutely.

'Thank you your majesty,' Catherine replied quietly, her face littered with tears.

She at least had her life and her daughter, and that would have to be enough. She did not know how she would bear the poverty before her, or if she was strong enough to withstand the hostile favour she had now gartered from the people. But she would survive, she would endure, and one day her daughter would be Queen of England. That was enough, it would have to be.

* * *

Anne had been surprisingly mellow after the trial, she was happy, deliriously so that she and Henry could finally be together, but the enormity of what awaited her worried her slightly. She didn't want to let anyone down, not the people, not her family and most importantly not Henry. He had risked so much for her and she so wanted him to be proud of her.

She was currently in her room, with her ladies, with yards of fabric that had been delivered for her wedding and coronation dress. She and Henry had decided to have both on the same day, and to make a huge celebration of the event. The fabric before her was exquisite, rich and very expensive. Silk in silvers and golds and linens and velvets in deep greens and red but nothing was catching her eye.

'No,' she shook her head as one of her ladies held up a beautiful gold to her face.

'It's beautiful my lady,' Nan said.

'It's just not right,' Anne replied.

They were all fit for a Queen, but Anne wasn't Queen yet, she wanted something humble and elegant. Suddenly she had an idea.

A few hours later she and her ladies were in the market square where Anne had been several times before to purchase trinkets and to look after trade. She approached a middle aged woman she had seen before, called Eleanor who had lovely material, simple but pretty nonetheless.

'Lady Anne!' Eleanor examined happily.

Wherever she went now, people called her name happily and offered her congratulations and support.

'Hello Eleanor, how are you?' Anne asked kindly.

'Very well madam, thank you, what can I do for you?' Eleanor asked.

'I am looking for material for my wedding dress,' Anne replied.

Eleanor looked at her in shock and looked doubtfully down at her humble selection.

'I do not think I have anything appropriate my lady,' Eleanor replied.

'Well, I have looked at many colours and fabrics so far today but nothing has caught my eye,' Anne smiled.

'I am happy you think I can help my lady,' Eleanor replied.

'I'm sure you can.'

Slowly surrounding women began to gather round Eleanor's stall, drawn to Anne's presence. When they heard what she was looking for they gasped and exclaimed in shock. The future Queen of England was looking for her wedding and coronation dress among the fabric that was usually bought for an upper class lady, or rich commoners in trade, certainly not what they considered fit for courtiers or royalty. However they soon enjoyed the task of rifling through Eleanor's selection and several other seamstresses came to show Anne their wares and offer their opinions. They were delighted that the future Queen was going to choose a dress from their own fabric. Not silk from abroad. They considered it very good of her, and their estimation of her went up even more.

Anne leafed through the selections before her, admiring the simple styles and humble materials, nothing like the expensive selection she had seen this morning. Suddenly near the bottom of the pile a flash of white caught her eye and she dragged the material out from the bottom, it was white satin embroidered with silver brocade in small patterns of flowers and vines, the sun caught the silver thread and almost made it shone.

'This is beautiful,' Anne murmured fingering the material.

'I am glad you think so,' Eleanor murmured.

Anne's ladies agreed with her that if was beautiful fabric, lacking in the luxury of those options earlier, but elegant and pretty in its simplicity.

'Combined with your dark hair and a splash of colour from some beautiful gems I think you will look marvellous,' Nan murmured and Madge agreed.

'How much?' Anne asked shocking the crowd. The future Queen was actually going to have her wedding gown bought from a commoners stall.

Eleanor murmured the price in shock to which Anne gladly opened her purse and paid double as the fabric was measured and cut ready to be turned into a design Anne would create. Anne did not want a big skirt so she looked puffed up. She wanted it to be simple and beautiful, she did not want to struggle to walk on what would be the happiest day of her life.

'My lady?' Eleanor questioned.

'Yes?' Anne smiled preparing to leave happy with your purchase.

'If I may be so bold I would like to give something to you,' Eleanor said hopefully.

'You have given me much already Eleanor and please call me Anne,' Anne replied.

Eleanor smiled nervously before turning and crouching down to a large trunk she kept at the back for her stall, she leafed through it before pulling out a small case wrapped in black silk.

'I was saving this for my daughter,' Eleanor said nervously fingering the box.

'Where is she?' Anne asked.

'She died very young, this was supposed to be her inheritance from me,' Eleanor whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

Anne stared at the poor lady in shock that she was revealing such a deep hurt to her. Slowly she stepped forwards and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed slightly in comfort.

'I kept this with me knowing I could sell it for a lot of money, but couldn't bring myself too.' Eleanor continued.

Slowly she unwrapped the silk and opened the box and withdrew from it a long white veil. It was the prettiest Anne had ever seen and gasped out loud. Anne's well trained eye knew the lace was expensive from France, and of the highest quality money could buy, it was intricately designed with silk in patterns of flowers. Tiny crystals had been attached down the material so it shimmered and sparkled, it was designed to be draped just over the forehead and then to cascade in a shimmer of white down the back of a dress and onto the floor to trail behind. It was the most exquisite piece of material she had ever seen.

Trembling she reached out a hand and touched the finery and raised her eyes to Eleanor in question.

'My late husband was a Duke in France, we married for love and he bought me this for our wedding, on his death the King of France took back the property and I was sent back to England where I now work here,' Eleanor said, 'My little girl was three when her papa died and I wanted so much to see her wear it at her own wedding, but God saw fit to take her from me also.'

Anne stared at the poor lady before her in grief and pity. Here was a lady who had sank from the comfort she had married into. She had lost her husband and child and all she had left to remember them both by was this veil that she was now offering to Anne.

'I cannot accept this,' Anne whispered.

'You can,' Eleanor insisted pushing the box towards her 'you will.'

'I couldn't Eleanor,' Anne replied.

'I will never see my little Hattie wear it, but I would be so proud to the see the Queen of England wear it, and know that when people stare at your veil, they will partly be staring at my little girl who this was meant for. It would mean the world to me,' Eleanor finished.

'Very well, Eleanor, I will wear it and as I walk into Westminster Abbey I will think of your daughter,' Anne replied.

Elinor sniffed in reply and placed the box in Anne's hand who then stepped forwards and hugged the lady in reply. The people surrounding them hummed in appreciation of the gesture, delighted that Anne was embracing the common people and caring about their lives.

Anne thanked Eleanor again and placed a kiss on her head and resolved that this woman would never again want for anything. Then clutching the box with Eleanor's veil inside her and her ladies returned to Whitehall. She thought Henry might have been waiting for her on her return but her chamberlain informed her that the King was currently visiting the Queen.

'The princess dowager,' Anne corrected to which the man stuttered an apology and blushed.

On hearing the news Anne turned and went to her bedchamber her happiness over the material and veil forgotten. She dismissed her ladies and sat down gently on the bed. What was he doing with her? Henry had not informed her of his visit to see Catherine. What could they possibly have to talk about now? The woman was a traitor. Anne had told him that she did not want to see her dead, but neither did she want the woman anywhere close to Henry or his court. Henry had assured her that she would be gone soon, but now she heard that he was visiting her.

Anne gasped suddenly as a sharp pain spread throughout her stomach. After experiencing her cramps before, she had been certain that her courses would soon arrive, yet they had failed to appear since the day she had originally felt the pain. Recently she had experienced sudden bouts of dizziness and had often felt hot to the touch even in the cool temperatures of January.

Her late cycle and symptoms might have made her think that she could have been pregnant under different circumstances. But she knew without a doubt she couldn't be. Henry had not spilled his seed in her womb, there was no chance she could be pregnant. She supposed she must have a stomach bug and that it would pass in time.

Flustered and uncomfortable Anne decided to take a walk and walked down to the stables unaccompanied, glad to be alone with her thoughts. She decided that she would visit her white mare Capellia. Upon approaching the stables she saw that in the pen Sir Anthony Knivert was already horsed. She had known that Sir Anthony was a great rider, Henry had often said that he was the best horseman he had ever seen, and that was why he was master of the horse.

Anne watched as he masterfully controlled his golden stallion Alberto bareback around the ring, his strong thighs pressing and pushing as he directed the horse with no use of reins. Anne watched in awe as Anthony made him walk backwards and perform jumps and rearing on command. He looked very relaxed and comfortable, at ease in his skill and position in life. He looked up and saw Lady Anne watching him and smiled and brought Alberto up to the wooden railing where he bowed his head to her.

'Lady Anne, what are you doing here unaccompanied?' he asked concerned.

'I needed some air, things have been very hectic,' Anne replied.

'Does Henry know you are here?' Anthony asked.

'I haven't had the chance to inform him seeing as he is spending his time with his now ex-wife,' Anne said spitefully frowning at the floor.

Anthony dismounted and walked closer to her.

'You have no need for jealousy Anne,' Anthony assured her.

'He loved her once,' Anne replied sullenly.

'Perhaps,' Anthony considered 'Or he loved an image of her he had created, it must hurt to believe that someone you trusted was not all they had proclaimed to be.'

'He did not tell me he was going to see her,' Anne said.

'I'm sure he just forgot,' Anthony reassured her.

'Maybe,' Anne said worried.

'Anne, he loves you, truly deeply and with a passion I have never seen before, do not fear,' Anthony said reaching out to cup her cheek gently and to wipe away the tear that had escaped from her eyes.

* * *

Henry rushed back from Catherine's chambers anxious to see Anne and plan for the wedding and coronation. Also he was eager to see to her health, she had not looked well as of late, often tired and cranky, with sudden mood swings. He noticed she seemed to be filling out her dresses a lot more recently also. He had seen Catherine pregnant many times and if he did not know it to be impossible he might have asked doctor Linacre to check upon Anne. However he knew it was impossible. Anne couldn't be pregnant…not by him anyway, the thought came unwillingly to his mind.

He sighed and forced it away. Anne loved him, and he loved her, they spent most of their time together, she hardly glanced at any man, and all of her devotion seemed to be upon him. However the trial with Catherine and her lies and upset Henry greatly, he had also heard of many women who had committed adultery also. He had bedded many women that had rightly belonged to other men. Men they proclaimed to love in their vows of marriage. Vows and promises that had been easily broken.

He pushed his doubts aside and knew that as soon as he was in her arms all would be well. He was shocked then when he entered Anne's chambers to see her ladies but not his beloved. They informed him that she had gone for a walk to see her mare and get some fresh air as she was not feeling well.

Alarm bells sounded in his head. She couldn't be pregnant. She wasn't pregnant. He would have doctor Linacre observe her and have him make a diagnosis, nothing mattered more to him than Anne's health and happiness. He immediately left to seek her out and descended to the back of Whitehall and to the stables.

What he saw there stopped him in his tracks. Anne was pressed up against the wooden railing talking to Sir Anthony. He pushed the jealously aside that shot through him like a spear to the gut and walked towards the pair.

Brandon's warning rang in his head and he hated himself for thinking of it. Anne was his and he was hers, they were one, and nothing, not Brandon and his prejudiced warnings could break them. They had gotten through so much together and he knew that what they had was strong and perfect.

Anthony smiled at her and he watched in horror as his hand reached out and cradled Anne's cheek. Anger and disbelief shot through him and with a cry of anger he ran towards them.

Anne stepped back at the sound of Henry's cry of anger and turned with a smile to welcome her beloved. However her smile left as she realised what conclusion Henry had thought of her conversation with Anthony.

He charged into Anthony and with a sound punch to his jaw sent him sprawling backwards into Alberto who neighed and reared in fear.

'Henry!' Anne exclaimed in shock.

'You betray me also!' Henry yelled at her and spittle flew in her face.

'What are you talking about?' Anne cried in confusion.

'Brandon told me of you and him,' Henry yelled thrusting a finger in Knivert's direction.

'Brandon is a liar,' Anne snarled back her temper rising easily as it always did.

'Then why are you here with him, and letting him touch you?' Henry thundered.

'I was upset he was comforting me,' Anne replied.

'You expect me to believe you?' Henry cried.

'How dare you accuse me?' Anne yelled back pushing into his space.

Anthony had risen by now and was comforting a startled Alberto and immediately tried to calm the arguing pair.

'Your majesty I assure you...' he started.

'I'll have you killed with that Spaniard Mendoza!' Henry yelled at him and Anthony paled in response.

'I'm not the one spending time in my ex-wife's rooms for hours on end!' Anne thundered back.

'I was informing her that she had to leave!' Henry yelled back.

'And I was upset because you would rather spend time with that traitor than with me!' Anne cried openly crying now.

'That's ridiculous!' Henry shouted back.

'Your majesty…' Anthony tried again.

But a shout of pain quietened the two men as they turned to see Anne doubled over, grasping her stomach. She fell to her knees and Henry was immediately by her side his anger forgotten and concern sprouting anew and Knivert jumped the fence to help.

'Anne?' Henry cried cradling her face 'What is it?'

Anne's hand had disappeared under her skirt and when she withdrew it the two men gasped in shock and fear as her hand came back red. Anne's eyes rolled back in her head and Henry immediately swooped and lifted her into his arms.

'Fetch Linacre!' Henry ordered Knivert, his anger and suspicion forgotten in face of Anne's collapse.

Knivert ran to obey and Henry walked swiftly but carefully to Whitehall, his beloved cradled in his arms. She couldn't be miscarrying, she was not pregnant. She couldn't be. His mind recalled the almost tender scene he had witnessed between Anthony and Anne and he considered the possibility that she too had betrayed him.

Linacre would give him the truth. Soon he would know, and if she had been untrue, he would not be as merciful as he had been to Catherine. He loved Anne completely more than he had ever loved Catherine and the sheer rage and jealously that flooded through him at the thought of her betrayal sent a spasm of hurt through him. For now he would give her the benefit of the doubt, he would wait on Linacre.

* * *

 **Dum dum dum….**

 **Is Anne Pregnant? Is she not?**

 **Will misunderstandings destroy their love?**


	12. Chapter 12

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you_

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

 **Here we go guys! It's all kicking off now!**

* * *

Henry strode quickly into the palace, past the startled servants and into Anne's quarters where her ladies gasped and exclaimed upon seeing their mistress. He gave quick orders for Linacre to be sent for and turned to deposit Anne on her bed. Despite his anger, his concern was paramount, and even though she was obviously ill, she still looked beautiful with her hair slightly misplaced and in her eyes. Tenderly he brushed it back and watched as she stirred slightly.

Anne gasped as she came to, and pain erupted through her stomach, she tried to sit up but was restrained by a concerned looking Henry.

'Henry?' Anne questioned.

'You are ill, I have sent for Linacre,' Henry replied stonily.

Anne gasped and cried out again as a sharp pain erupted through her stomach and blood started to appear on her dress. Anne cried out in distress and looked upon Henry in mortification that he should see her this way.

Madge however quickly took control and gently reached over to untie Anne's laces and remove her dress and replace it with a linen nightgown and bathed her head in hot water.

'Your majesty, perhaps it would be best…' Madge trailed off uncertain as to why the King lingered.

'No I will stay,' Henry replied.

'Yes your majesty,' Madge replied, not daring to say differently.

Knivert was lingering in Anne's presence room, far too afraid to even think about entering her bedchamber. He knew what Henry was thinking, but it was absurd! A few weeks ago he had not spoken two words to Anne, and now he was being accused of impregnating her! It was impossible, whenever he saw Anne she had been accompanied by someone. He had never been in her rooms, always meeting her in town or in court. He jumped slightly as Doctor Linacre rushed into the room carrying his medical bag followed by an anxious looking Nan Saville. He prayed it would be good news for him and Anne, and that he had nothing to worry about.

Linacre strolled into the room with haste and immediately began to assess Anne. Holding a hand to her forehead he then turned to address the King.

'What happened your majesty?' Linacre asked.

'She was outside near the stable, she collapsed and she was bleeding,' Henry rushed through.

'Has she complained of anything else before then?' Linacre asked.

'No just stomach cramps,' Henry replied.

'I will do an examination in private if you ladies and your majesty will leave?' Linacre asked.

'I'm not going anywhere until I know what is going on!' Henry thundered, he wanted to know if Anne would be okay and also he wanted to know if he had cause to be angry. He would not leave them alone and give Anne time to tell a different story.

He cursed himself for his thoughts. They had promised to be truthful, and so far Anne had been true to him. He had no cause for suspecting her. He had no evidence. He would have to wait.

'Your presence is disturbing her, your majesty, I need her calm if I am to assess her,' Linacre ordered.

Henry sighed knowing he was defeated, and gently kissed a wary and dazed Anne on the forehead before retreating to Anne's main apartment and was astonished to find that Knivert had followed him to her rooms.

'What are you doing here?' Henry thundered.

Anne's ladies immediately fled the room, to avoid the conflict.

'I was concerned,' Anthony said honestly.

'I had no reason to believe you so close to her as to care,' Henry replied.

'Henry please, I care about her as one human being to another, I am not in love with her, or her with me,' Anthony exclaimed, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

'Brandon didn't seem to think so,' Henry replied spitefully knowing that bringing Brandon up would upset Anthony knowing the rivalry between the two.

'Brandon hates Anne and would do anything to see her downfall,' Anthony replied.

'He's my closest friend!'

'Henry please, you must listen to reason, Anne loves you, and if she is pregnant then I am sure the baby is yours. Brandon has always had your full attention, now that has shifted to Anne, and despite what other reasons he may give, I guarantee that Is the real reason to seeing to her downfall,' Anthony said.

'Then answer me this,' Henry replied. 'How on earth can it be mine when my seed has not touched her?'

Anthony paused in shock. They had not slept together? It seemed impossible to him, he knew how much Henry enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. Since he had known Anne, he had not taken any other lover or mistress. To be celibate all these years was incredible to believe, but heartening to know that he held her in such esteem. But it was also panicking him, if the baby was not Henry's then who's could it be? Brandon had planted a doubt in the King's head, and if Anne proved to be pregnant than _he_ would be the first one Henry would suspect.

'Then it must be something else!' Anthony exclaimed.

'I have seen Catherine lose many children, I know what a miscarriage looks like!' Henry shouted.

'Henry please, I have not touched her, I wouldn't…she's yours!' Knivert exclaimed desperate for him to understand.

'Well we shall soon see,' Henry snapped back.

* * *

Linacre swiftly set to work first by holding Anne by the arms and willing her to watch his breathing and copy, he a set a slow and deep rhythm and kept her head up so she could see him clearly. The intense eye contact and rhythmic breathing soon relaxed her enough for her to concentrate on the pain and not to be overwhelmed by it.

'Where is the pain my lady?' Linacre asked quietly.

Anne held her hand to her lower abdomen in answer breathing deeply in order to force herself to calm. With Anne's permission Linacre examined her, pressing against her stomach and lifting her underclothes to check her, which made Anne cringe in embarrassment. Once done he gave her several tonics to drinks for pain a calming. Then he examined the blood for signs of miscarriage and symptoms of something else.

'My lady,' Linacre said.

'What… what is it?' Anne asked concerned.

'Congratulations my lady you are pregnant, about two months,' Linacre replied smiling thinking of how happy the King would be at such news.

'But…what?' Anne asked totally confused.

'You have not miscarried my lady, the baby lives and should be here with us this summer,' Linacre replied.

'But it's not possible!' Anne exclaimed in shock.

Linacre smiled believing this to be shock at the news, not fully understanding Anne's bewilderment. He put it down to disbelief and joy at the unexpected news and decided to leave her be and inform the king. Anne who was too consumed in utter confusion and disbelief, did not even realise he had left.

* * *

Linacre returned to the main rooms and saw the King engaged in a heated argument between the King and one of his closest friends.

'Your majesty?' Linacre interrupted.

'Leave Anthony,' Henry ordered on observing Linacre's return. Anne deserved her privacy and he could always find him later. He knew he wouldn't run, he was far too noble.

Anthony bowed and reluctantly left knowing that what Linacre told the king could very well mean the difference between life and death.

'Well?' Henry thundered.

'Congratulations your majesty the lady Anne is pregnant,' Linacre said with a smile on his face.

Henry started at Linacre with venom in his eyes and watched as the doctor stepped back slightly in confusion. Henry's eyes flashed towards her closed bedchamber and he took a step towards it before turning on his heel and storming out of Anne's rooms.

* * *

Anne was still in a state of shock. She hadn't thought a lady could become pregnant so easily. She hadn't thought it possible, certainly not with Henry, they had such a brief time together and Anne had been careful to not let things get that far. She had been determined to do things right, if not in truth then at least in the eyes of the people. She did not want to appear pregnant on her coronation or wedding. It would send the wrong message.

Her hand slipped to her stomach where she rubbed slightly. The timing wasn't ideal, but it could be easily solved by moving the celebrations forwards, no one would complain. She could claim she became pregnant on her wedding night. She wasn't showing at just two months along, although her bust was a bit larger and fuller, and when she gave birth she could claim it was simple early. She did not regret it, life was inside her, a symbol of their love; that it could persevere and pass anyone's expectations and still survive strong. Yes her baby was strong, she thought as she stroked her covered stomach. Despite the pains and blood that the doctor had assured her was normal in some pregnancies, she was sure that her baby was strong. How could it not be, when it had come to live through such unexpected odds?

Henry would be pleased, she thought with a grin, she knew now that he would not hold it against her if she had a girl, so she no longer had anything to worry about. She would deliver them a healthy child and together they could all be a family. Perhaps even her father might be reconciled with the promise of an infant to continue his blood line and to perhaps one day become King or Queen.

Feeling better she jumped from the bed, regardless of her attire and ran into her presence chamber hoping to find her future husband.

'Henry?' she called laughing, all thoughts over their argument over, with the joyous news.

She looked around her spacious rooms, but they were empty except for two guards who she had never seen before which were posted on the insider of her room, blocking her from leaving.

'Where is the King?' Anne asked confused.

They didn't reply or look at her, and Anne felt herself getting angry.

'Answer me!' She yelled at them.

When they gave no reply she strode forward to exit her rooms but was surprised when their spears crossed and their other hands pushed her back into her rooms.

'How dare you?' Anne thundered.

'The King has ordered you to stay here madam,' One of the guards said.

'What on earth for?' Anne laughed, 'I am perfectly well.' Anne continued, thinking Henry had become overly concerned for her now that she was pregnant.

'The King has forbidden you to leave,' the guards repeated their gaze cold.

Anne now felt a flicker of fear run through her, this was not her lover being protective, this was Henry the King who felt he had been humiliated and betrayed. Anne remembered his earlier comments over Anne and Anthony, and how they had been close, even though she had only stopped to wish him a good day. She had never been alone with him until then. Suddenly Brandon's, warnings to Henry alarmed her now, combined with her current situation and her being alone with Knivert earlier must have turned Henry against her.

He didn't think the child was his she concluded.

And why would he, when he hadn't spilled his seed inside of her? Brandon was his closest friend, and Henry was jealous and prideful, this combined with Catherine's betrayal meant that Henry was feeling vulnerable. She knew her lover was very sensitive to the views of others. Anne felt dread run through her and her hand clutched at her stomach.

'I want to see the King,' Anne told the guards.

'The King will return when he wills it, not on your orders madam,' the guards replied.

Anne felt her heartbeat rise and sweat pool on her forehead. The longer he was without her, the more he would be susceptible to the will and thoughts of others. Ambitious courtiers would swoop in, much as her family had. But Anne loved him, she was carrying his child! She knew that he loved her, he had too!

Thinking quickly she wondered how she could get him back into her rooms so they could talk. His love for her could not be that far away despite his anger. Thinking quickly she nodded to the guards and returned to her room. Eyeing her bookshelves and the tallest shelves she quickly strode over and pulled on the shelves until they fell with a crash that made the floor shudder. Quickly she manoeuvred herself beneath the books and turned her head to the side and closed her eyes.

The guards ran into the room and exclaimed upon seeing her and she listened as one left to get the King and the doctor. It was very tempting to open her eyes but she resolutely kept them shut.

* * *

Henry had strode from Anne's room in a furious temper. He could not believe he had been such a fool! Him the King of England had fallen for a pretty face and the lies that had flowed out of her pretty mouth. She had seemed so sincere in her innocence and despite the proof of her virginity, she had quickly moved on after getting a taste of what lust had to offer her.

He sighed as she strode out into the courtyard towards Anthony's rooms, his entourage struggling to keep up. That couldn't be it! Anne may be a flirt but she wasn't wanton, neither was she skilled in the bedroom. Although her movements had been unlike anything Henry had ever known or felt, he had seen the wariness and doubt in her eyes, and the pain that had flickered when he had moved too quickly and harshly.

No, she had not enjoyed their first time. She had enjoyed the fact it had been the two of them emotionally connected, but the physical union had not been pleasurable for her. So she couldn't be wanton enough to throw herself at Knivert. Then what was it? Why had she betrayed him so?

He strode quickly to the east of the palace and walked quickly towards the rooms that he gifted to his fondest courtiers. Upon entering Anthony's, he couldn't stop himself from lunging at the him from where he was pacing.

He grabbed him by the throat and threw him to the ground before punching him in the jaw.

'Tell me!' Henry thundered shaking him by the shoulders.

'Your majesty!' Anthony coughed and spluttered from the pain, 'Please!' he begged not wanting to be struck by his friend again.

Henry pulled his fist back again and struck the other side of his face, smiling inwardly in sick satisfaction as his head whipped to the side from the blow.

'Tell me!' Henry yelled again grasping his face in both hands and forcing him to meet his gaze.

Anthony was bloodied and his lips were split, his cheeks swollen.

'Tell you what?' he slurred through the pain.

'Why did she come to you?' Henry asked shaking him roughly, 'what did you offer her that I didn't!?'

He had given her everything, his love, his faith, his kingdom. He had sacrificed everything for her, and Anthony had won her from him so easily. Embarrassingly he felt tears running down his face at the sight of his bruised friend. They had been close as boys, and had learnt to ride together, and now he had stolen the only thing Henry had ever truly wanted.

'Henry I haven't….we haven't…you must believe me!' Anthony cried.

'She's pregnant!' Henry yelled back at him, to which Anthony appeared confused.

There was no shock or surprise or fear in his gaze just bewilderment and confusion of a man who did not understand. Doubt started to plague him.

'She's pregnant and it can't be mine!' Henry continued on.

'It's not mine Henry!' Knivert replied sincerely 'You have to believe me!'

'Who's can it be?!' Henry thundered, stepping back up and beginning to pace the floor ignoring Knivert pained groans as he sat up to nurse his bruised face.

'She's always with her ladies Henry, they accompanied us everywhere, ask them!' Knivert begged.

'Ladies lie,' Henry replied back.

'Then ask your people, ask the people she visited, they will confirm it!'

'It can't be mine!' Henry repeated.

'That is not quite true your majesty,' A voice came from the hall and Henry turned to look out into the corridor before Anthony's chamber and saw Linacre's hesitant face and stepped forwards slightly.

'I have not placed my seed in that woman!' Henry called out loudly and for all to hear.

'But you have lain with her?' Linacre asked quietly.

'Yes, once, briefly but I did not… I mean…we…'Henry stuttered blushing mindful of his audience and the personal things he was discussing.

'Your majesty, please we must avoid any misunderstandings, I followed you here as I left your lady's rooms, worried you would come to the wrong conclusion, please you must be truthful with me, and forget your discomfort,' Linacre said in his soothing voice.

Henry sighed and continued 'I penetrated her, but she was a virgin, and she did not want to be pregnant before marriage, and she made me withdraw before I reached…' Henry trailed off.

'I see,' Linacre replied raising an eyebrow.

'Well?' Henry thundered back at him, 'you see how it cannot be mine!'

'Indeed if the lady had slept with another around the same time and had a man's seed planted in her womb than he is most likely the father, but if the lady is being truthful and this is not the case then only you can be the father your majesty,' Linacre replied in his clinical tone.

'How?' Henry asked confused.

'It is possible, when a woman is extremely fertile to become pregnant simply from penetration,' Linacre told him, 'it is rare, but can indeed happen, I have had cases before where the potential husband has been sceptical however upon birth and seeing the child grow it is often obvious who the father is.' Linacre finished.

'You mean it could be mine?' Henry asked.

'Of course it's yours Henry!' Anthony thundered having risen to his feet and finding his anger, 'that beautiful girl loves you completely and sincerely, I see it whenever she talks about you, which is very often, annoyingly so in fact. Everything she does, she is doing is to make you proud of her. She never even glances at any other man, and believe me they are looking at her. And if you carry on the way you are going, you will lose her, you need to stop listening to everyone around you and trust in the woman you love!'

Anthony looked shocked at his own outburst and Linacre almost fearful for the King's reaction. Henry gazed at him with a stony expression before finally sighing and looking down at his boots.

'You're right,' Henry finished. 'It's just sometimes I wonder what she sees in me, and if she would be happier living a simpler life with someone else.'

'You don't choose who you fall in love with, and neither did Anne,' Anthony replied.

Henry looked at Anthony and realised suddenly how badly hurt he was, and winced in sympathy and regret, cursing himself for how he let his anger get control of himself sometimes. Yet here was a friend who was reassuring him and trying to comfort him in the face of his aggression.

'I'm sorry,' Henry said.

'You should be telling her!' Anthony exclaimed, 'Where is she?'

'In her rooms,' Henry replied wincing.

'Your majesty!' a breathless voice yelled.

Everyone turned to see a uniformed guard running towards them with a distressed look upon him.

'Speak!' Henry ordered.

'Lady Anne…' he stuttered struggling for breath.

Henry felt his hear plummet. Was she hurt? Was the baby in more distress? It was his fault, he had done this to her, to them.

'She has fallen,' the guard said.

Without waiting to hear more Henry was running towards Anne's chambers his entourage and Linacre rushing behind him.

* * *

Upon entering Anne's bedchamber he took one look at the fallen shelving and saw that the guard had placed Anne on the bed before backing away from her. His heart fell and felt heavy almost as if he couldn't breathe. He ran towards the unconscious Anne and quickly stroked at her face calling her name.

'My love?' he questioned running a hand through her curls, 'Linacre!'

Anne who had steadfastly kept her eyes remained closed until she could assess the situation, heard the whispered endearments and deemed it safe to quit her masquerade.

Henry was shocked when Anne's beautiful blue eyes snapped open and she sat up with the strength and fluidity of a woman who had clearly not taken a fall and he immediately knew what she had done. He met her cautious gaze with his and forced the irritation and anger aside for the moment.

'Leave!' he ordered in a strong forcible tone and smirked as his subjects sprang to obey.

'Henry?' Anne whispered her hand reaching out trembling to his cheek.

'I was worried!' Henry snapped.

'I'm sorry!' Anne replied.

'You promised you wouldn't manipulate me,' Henry replied.

'You promised we would trust each other, you said you believed me when we promised to be honest with each other!' Anne snapped back.

Henry felt his anger fading, and knew he had no cause to be angry. What Anne had done was reckless but understandable when faced with her position. Anne seemed to deflate as well as she surveyed his cautious expression.

Hesitantly she reached forwards and placed her hand in his before lifting it and placing it on her still flat stomach.

'It's yours Henry,' Anne whispered, a tear slipping out of her blue orbs 'You have to believe me.'

Her broken voice and plea moved him and he felt the guilt multiply as he saw the hurt and fear in her eyes.

'I know it is,' Henry replied without no doubt.

He leant forwards and placed his head in her lap and moved his hands to clutch at her waist. It was his, this child had been created that day in the woods, and _of course_ it was his. He was such a fool for doubting it. Brandon's words and Catherine's betrayal had hung over his head until he had doubted the one person he and vowed to trust.

'Can you forgive me?' Henry asked his vice muffled by Anne's nightgown.

'Of course I can,' Anne replied sniffing running a hand through his short hair.

'Linacre explained to me how when a woman is fertile it is very easy for her to become impregnated,' Henry said sitting up 'However I should have known, as I feel it now connected to you, touching you, that this child is a product of our love.'

'I was just as confused as you were Henry, but I never doubted this, I never doubted that it was our love that had created this child, yet _you_ did. Of course I forgive you, but what happens when it happens again?'

'It won't happen again!' Henry replied earnestly.

'You are so easily swayed by your emotions, and the views of others,' Anne stated warily.

'No more,' Henry insisted.

'We are both jealous people, me of you simply visiting Catherine to pass her sentence, and you for believing me of adultery. Is what we have really love?' Anne asked almost to herself.

'Of course it is, how can you doubt it?' Henry asked shocked.

'I believe this is love, but we distrust one another so easily, we are so quick to cause one another pain. I can't stand it when any woman fawns over you, and I saw how your treated Sir Anthony and Mark. Is that love? Or is it obsession?'

'Can it not be both?' Henry asked.

He had known the emotion he felt for Anne was overwhelming, but as he considered her words he saw some truth in them. They were so easily turned against one another. So easy to abandon sense and sensibility in favour of passion and fatuity. He loved her though, he knew it in his heart that he was in love with Anne Boleyn.

'I love you Anne!' Henry exclaimed frightened that he was losing her.

Desperately he leaned forwards and kissed her, grasping her face and clinging to her body desperate to make her see, to make her _feel_ the depth of his love for her. She kissed him back with just as much passion but she was the first to break away.

'You're not leaving me?' Henry whispered, heart broken and scared.

'Of course not,' Anne replied comfortingly cupping his cheek and brushing away his tears, 'but I am afraid.'

'How can I make you not? How can we fix this? Tell me and it is done!' Henry exclaimed, frantic to make things right between them.

Anne gazed at the man she believed she loved, before her. She so wanted them to be happy, and together they had accomplished much. But now their was a child to think about, very soon there would someone else to consider, and Anne did not want to have to live with this trepidation and fear that someone's words could manipulate either of them against the other.

'Can we go somewhere? Anywhere, Hever perhaps, just the two of us, and for a week just talk to one another, get to know one another, be relaxed and pliant and loving and not have to worry about court or anyone, just us?' Anne asked.

Henry thought it was a good idea. They had rarely had time together with no one else around. His station in life gave them little chance. It was a drawback to his power and status. But it could be done, for a week with just a few guards, they could go to Hever, Anne's family home. They could really, truly, get to know one another, and work on their relationship, before coming back to marry and crown Anne his Queen.

They couldn't be gone long, Anne was pregnant and although he would be proud if she was swollen for all to see, he knew that Anne would not be. She so wanted to do things right. And he wanted to give it to her.

'We cannot go alone, we will take some guards and post them close by, and if you want to be married with no one to know of your condition then we must not delay. However it is possible, for a week, maybe two,' Henry replied and watched in happiness as Anne's radiant smile lit up her face leaving him breathless.

'No servants?' Anne laughed 'How will you cope?'

'I'm sure you will oblige,' Henry teased.

'It will be almost like we are normal,' Anne smiled again.

'Almost,' Henry laughed.

Pulling her closer Henry pulled his beloved into an embrace and marvelled at her in his arms. His wife to be was pregnant and they had overcome yet another hurdle. Together they would make their relationship right. He knew they could, what he felt for Anne was nothing more than deep love, it was not obsession or infatuation. It couldn't be. He didn't believe it. And together they would prove it.

* * *

 **There you go guys another long chapter!**

 **The tag line for season two was 'obsession' and I could easily see how their relationship could be interpreted as such. It made me want to explore their relationship a little deeper and see what would spring up.**

 **Also…she's pregnant!**

 **And no, before you ask it is not Elizabeth. This is January 1531. Elizabeth is born in 1533. You will have to wait and see if she ever makes an appearance or not.**


	13. Chapter 13

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

 **Hey guys, sorry for the wait, work went CRAZY!**

 **I had review asking me if it is possible for a woman to get pregnant that way… YES! It completely is. Google withdrawal method reliability. Don't have sex kids! You will get pregnant and die!**

* * *

Henry's court had argued rather vehemently against their plan to leave for a week, but Henry had been adamant, for once he had done what he had thought best and not listened to other's opinions. Yes the country was in a state of uncertainty but marrying Anne like things were now, would not remove the problem, only add to it. The people of England deserved a kingdom ruled by monarchs with a clear head.

When Anne had suggested they take no servants, Henry had just thought she had meant less than usual. But upon planning and packing he realised she literally meant no one. Henry wanted to oblige her, but he felt unsure of himself. He had been waited on since he was born, he had never been alone before. Someone always helped him dress, helped him bathe, someone even slept in his room to guard him from potential threats. The prospect was both alarming and exciting. He did not want to disappoint Anne, but he had talked her into taking some guards to post around the estate, he would not tamper with her or his unborn child's safety.

Another problem was that Anne's father was currently residing at Hever; Anne's family home. She was loathed to remove him from it, especially since he was still recovering, from Henry's violence against him. Since they were not on speaking terms, Anne had spoken to George about it however, and he had persuaded his father to take a holiday to Norfolk to stay at his brother in law's estate, where the air was cleaner.

Anne had wanted to ride the short distance to Hever, however Henry had adamantly resisted, if she were to take a tumble, or if the ride jolted her too much, it could risk her health and the health of the child. Anne had told him that she was not a fragile princess, but Henry had remained firm, and had consulted Linacre who had also told her not to ride. Anne loved riding and had been very disappointed but had understood eventually after much coaxing.

Anne was very emotional lately Henry noted, her mood's swung rapidly and it was hard for him to keep up, however he refused to complain, knowing that it was just a side effect of her pregnancy and a sign that the child in her womb was well.

Now that the shock of the news had worn off, Henry had allowed the excitement to build inside him. He wanted to announce it to the whole of England, but had resisted knowing that Anne wanted to be married first. He could not help the beaming smile he gave her though whenever he saw her. Everything he had ever wished for was finally coming true. He would have a true loving family with a wife he respected and truly loved. It had been all he had ever wanted.

Henry was not a fool however. He knew that he and Anne had their problems, they were both hot tempered, and were quick to jump to conclusions. They both succumbed to jealousy and suspicion far too easily. Henry had thought long and hard over Anne's fears that what they felt for each other was simply obsession and not love. He could see her point. His dreams were all of her, his every thought was of her, and his decisions were made only after taking into considerations Anne's opinions. He was adamant he would prove her wrong however. He had one week in which to prove to her once and for all that he trusted and respected her, as well as loving her.

* * *

Riding in the carriage with her was a new experience, they had not been alone like this before, and Henry was struggling with what to say. Anne was dressed plainly, if such a word could be used to describe her. Her hair was down, with no adornments, just her loose natural curls that cascaded close to her waist. She was dressed in a loose fitting dress, so as not to put pressure on her stomach, with the stays and corsets she would usually wear.

'How are you feeling?' Henry asked for the third time.

Anne smiled at his concern 'I'm fine my love.'

Henry nodded and turned his gaze back down to his legs which were moving restlessly. Carriage rides always made him restless when he knew he could be going faster on horseback. He still did not know what to make of Anne's pregnancy. On one hand he was ecstatic, but on the other he was a little disappointed if he was honest with himself. He had not planned for it to happen so soon, and he did not like the thought of sharing her so soon. Also he did not feel like they had even consummated their relationship yet. Their time together in the woods had been so brisk and hurried, that he had not even truly appreciated it, but Anne had become pregnant anyway, part of him was thrilled that Anne was so fertile, and the other part of him didn't know what to make of it.

'You are nervous,' Anne stated.

'I didn't plan for any of this,' Henry replied.

'You are disappointed with me?' Anne asked frowning.

'No!' Henry exclaimed. Anne just raised an eyebrow in reply.

Henry sighed, she knew him too well. 'I'm not disappointed in you my love, just a little in the situation we find ourselves in. I was hoping to have you to myself a little bit longer. Also I feel like we haven't even… we haven't…' Henry trailed off words failing him.

'Explored each other yet?' Anne finished for him.

'Yes,' Henry agreed. 'And now I must wait even longer for you.'

Anne looked down at his words, he had waited for so long for her, for five whole years he had remained faithful, and now when the time came that they could finally consummate their relationship, they had to stall again.

'I'm sorry,' Anne replied.

'Don't be,' Henry smiled. 'You are giving me a great gift that should bring nothing but joy, I can wait a few more months.'

Anne smiled at him in reply, but was worried anyway. Henry had many mistresses in the past, of this she knew only too well, as her sister had been one of them. She worried that the constant wait would mean he would soon look elsewhere, and whilst he did, he would fall for another woman. Henry had such a great capacity to love, Anne realised. It was something he had never had enough of. He was considered the spare by his parents, and his wife had loved his brother, he had not known enough love Anne realised

'What is it?' Henry asked upon seeing her fearful expression.

'Just something Katherine said to me once when I was her lady in waiting,' Anne replied.

'What did she say?' Henry asked.

'That you will tire of me, like all the others,' Anne replied.

'That bitch!' Henry exclaimed smacking his hand on the wood of the carriage making Anne jump.

'Excuse me,' Henry said calming himself, knowing he should not talk so in front of a lady.

'Don't be, she wasn't very nice to me, although I could hardly blame her,' Anne replied.

Henry leaned over the gap between them and took her hand in his and stared deeply into her eyes.

'I will never tire of you Anne,' Henry stated firmly 'you are the most beautiful, the most intriguing woman I have ever met, or ever will meet, it is true that I have been with many women, but I don't remember them. Even if we were to part, I know that I will never forget you.'

Anne smiled her radiant smile and her crystal blue eyes lit up with happiness and she leaned forwards and rewarded him with a gentle kiss that left him straining for more.

'I love you,' Anne whispered to him stroking a hand down his cheek.

'And I you,' Henry replied lovingly.

Anne leaned back and suddenly gasped as she saw the familiar grounds of her family home appear, Henry smiled at her happiness and enthusiasm and turned to look out of the window too. The grounds were beautiful, willow trees lined the road creating a canopy overhead. Wild flowers littered the grass, growing in no particular pattern or style. It was wildly beautiful and represented Anne so clearly. Henry had visited Hever a few times but he had never actually looked and taken in the scenery, it was one of the finest estates in England.

'You love your home don't you?' Henry asked turning to face Anne who was still gazing out of the window.

'My happiest memories are here,' Anne replied 'except the most recent ones of course.'

Henry beamed in reply 'I wish I had that.'

'What?' Anne asked confused.

'A home,' Henry replied.

'Henry you have several palaces!' Anne laughed.

'Exactly,' Henry replied frowning.

Anne suddenly understood where he was coming from. Henry was constantly moving, he spent the majority of his time in Whitehall but he was born in Greenwich palace and he moved with the court depending on peoples favour and supplies. He was never in the same place for long, always surrounded by different people. When he was young he was separated from his family and brought up by nurses and tutors and only saw his parents on special occasions.

'I will be your home Henry,' Anne said staring at him compassionately.

Henry smiled sadly and nodded. It was true he had never known the stability of a home life, of somewhere to go when everything seemed wrong. He was the King of England, and owned several palaces, he knew he should not feel sad, but looking at the simple but beautiful Hever made Henry wish for something he had never known.

'You're right, I am the king of England, and it's very land is my home, but you are what fills me with joy and happiness, and gives me contentment, wherever you are, wherever you go, that is my home,' Henry told her sincerely.

Anne leant across the gap and kissed him again, tears coming to her eyes. Her emotions seemed much more heightened lately, and she knew it was normal because of the pregnancy, but she had not been prepared for how strong they were.

The carriage pulled up the path leading to the front of the building and Anne was out the doors before the coachmen could help her down. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh air, and the quiet. Away from London there was no noise, other than nature's natural call, of the birds and the wind and the soft perfume of the wild flowers that drifted to her in the breeze. Henry's arms came around her from behind and she grinned in delight. Everything was perfect.

There belongings were moved into the house and then with a quick bow they were left on their own. It was still midday, and Henry was not used to not knowing what he was to do with himself. In Whitehall there was always a plan, a council to see, a trial to preside over, and a tournament to organise. But now he was here with Anne, in her home, on their own and he had no idea what to do.

'Do you want to see the rest of the house?' Anne asked him.

'Of course,' Henry replied silently thanking Anne for her quick thinking.

The next hour was spent with Anne excitedly showing him around her home, telling him the anecdotes of her childhood, showing him where she used to play with her siblings, and where she used to hide from her father and mother when she had been bad. She showed him the library her favourite room in the house, which was lined with bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling. The books looked well used but unorganised as if they were constantly taken off the shelves.

'I spent a lot of time here with my tutors,' Anne said trailing a finger across the rows of the books.

'You had a good education for a girl,' Henry stated.

'Yes, uncommon as it was and still is, I do not regret it,' Anne replied.

'What were you taught?' Henry asked curious.

'French, Latin, music, theology, the basics of arithmetic, writing, anything I wanted to learn father made it happen,' Anne replied.

'That is strange of him.' Henry replied.

Girls were never taught much, usually they were taught how to sew and dance and how to be a good wife but never what Anne had learnt unless they were royalty, but even his own daughter had not her education. Henry had in his possession possibly the most intelligent woman in England, and the thought made him humble.

'Yes, but he did not do it for any noble or morale reason, he simply did it for his own benefit,' Anne replied.

'How so?' Henry asked.

'He kept his options open, knowing that a wide education would open many doors for me, he is a very intelligent man, my father,' Anne said.

'Do you miss him?' Henry asked at the tone in her voice.

'Is that stupid of me?' Anne asked.

'Of course not, he is your father,' Henry replied.

'I do believe he loves me in his own way,' Anne replied 'I have to believe that.'

'I have never seen a more devoted or proud father,' Henry confirmed.

'But that does not mean love,' Anne noted.

'No,' Henry replied, he could not lie to her.

The rage and bitterness Henry had observed on Thomas Boleyn's face when he had struck Anne did not contain any trace of love. But then, he had seen how he had looked at her on other occasions. He did not know if he became crazed or power mad but something had happened to change Thomas Boleyn.

'He changed so much, when my mother died,' Anne replied.

'I thought he didn't love her,' Henry said recalling the conversation he had with Anne over her mother.

'No he was horrible to her and married her for her name,' Anne confirmed.

'Then how did her death change him?'

'I believe that on her death he acknowledged his own sin against her.'

'Perhaps he can come around,' Henry said reluctantly. He did not like the man, not for his manipulation of Anne, or for the way he treated her, but if Anne wanted to reconcile with him, he would support her.

'Perhaps a grandchild will bring him around.' Anne said hopefully.

'Perhaps,' Henry smiled back.

Anne took him on a tour of the grounds next and although it was still early spring, the sun was bright, and the breeze wasn't so chilled that they couldn't stay outside. Anne showed him her favourite places in particular a beautiful tall oak tree that when cast in shadow created a beautiful silhouette on the grass which Anne immediately laid on.

Henry stood back and simply admired her, how free and beautiful she looked with her hair billowed around her and her carefree expression glowing from the child that was growing inside her.

'I can't believe that next week I will be married and Queen of England,' Anne whispered.

'There is no one else I would have,' Henry replied.

'I hope I will make you proud Henry,' Anne said from her place on the grass.

'Of course you will,' Henry replied.

'The wedding will be so beautiful,' Anne said in anticipation.

'Of course, who is making your dress?' Henry asked curious.

'A lady in the lower town, she gifted me her daughters inheritance,' Anne said.

'Anne you can have the finest materials in the world, you do not need some woman's cast offs,' Henry said confused.

'It is no cast off, her daughter died and she wants me to wear it, it is very beautiful,' Anne said thinking back on the beautiful lace capped veil Eleanor had gifted her.

'That was very nice of her,' Henry replied surprised. He knew Anne would win over the people, but never would he of imagined that they would be giving her gifts, their most prised possessions to her, she truly was a marvel.

'Yes I will wear it with pride,' Anne smiled.

'I'm sure you would look beautiful in anything you chose to wear my love,' Henry replied.

They spent the rest of the day talking and walking through the grounds. When night fell, Henry was something at a loss on how to prepare for bed without his usual entourage. Luckily Anne sorted the situation very quickly by showing him the washroom, which he was thrilled to learn had all the luxury he was used too: The baths were made with copper and were attached to the wall; they were supplied by two taps, one for cold water and one for hot. Directly behind the bathroom, in another small room, was a charcoal- fired stove, or boiler, fed from a cistern on the second floor which was filled by the Coombe conduit. Thomas Boleyn must have spent a small fortune on having it built since it was the very newest in technology.

They bathed together, and Henry could barely contain himself when a gloriously naked and wet Anne and laid on top of him and caressed his skin, as she coated his body in soap. He felt so taken care of, and loved, that he had kissed her with all the passion he could conjure up. He returned the favour lovingly stroking his hands through her black tresses. He could not bring himself to wash her body knowing that it would be too much of a temptation, and he would not risk harming the child.

They had dried each other and then daringly naked Anne had ran to the storeroom and brought back a light supper of cheese and cold meats with fresh bread that had been left for them. He could not stop staring at her naked form, and was thrilled that she was confident enough with him to reveal herself to him. Her body was curved in all the right places and her normally flat stomach protruded only slightly where their child was growing. He had never seen such a glorious sight before.

Henry had taken it upon himself to light the fire, which took him several attempts but had finally gotten it working much to his delight. He found that he rather enjoyed not being waited on, it was a new freedom that he had never experienced before and he found that he liked it.

They were now curled up in Anne's bed wrapped in each other's arms as close to each other as they could get, and Henry was placing gentle kisses on her neck and face whilst sniffing her glorious her that he loved so much.

'Tell me about your sister? 'Henry suddenly asked.

'What?' Anne said turning to him with an alarmed expression.

'She was my mistress as you know, but I never knew her, never spoke to her, I only wanted her because Francis did, when he beat me at that wrestling match, I was so overcome by anger and humiliation that I wanted to take something from him too,' Henry explained.

Anne stared at him not knowing what to say. The fact that he had bedded her sister had never filled her with jealousy before, Anne loved Mary with all her heart and knew that it was only the will of her father that had forced her into the King's bed. But to hear of his motivation for bedding her and how little he actually knew of her, filled her with anger.

'She is precious to you, and I am filled with guilt and shame that I behaved so badly to someone you love,' Henry explained.

He knew he had taken a risk by bringing the subject up, but Henry was determined to make sure that nothing was between them, even if the subject was a painful one.

'Mary was a sweet girl and is my older sister so perhaps not so much in maturity,' Anne started, 'She was never very interested in the lessons I had, she was a free spirit, and she spent her days laughing and dancing and enjoying life. I remember her teaching me how to dance, and how to dress my hair, she was the first person to ever tell me I was beautiful.'

'You are,' Henry confirmed.

'No one ever told me so until Mary did, everyone always commented on Mary and how pretty she was, and I was never jealous of her, but gradually as I got older more and more people started paying attention to me, they told me how clever I was and I moved in a much better circle of friends than her. She never once complained, she was always there to listen and encourage me,' Anne said.

'It sounds like a very loving relationship,' Henry commented. Sibling rivalry was all he had ever known with Arthur and Margaret, yes they had loved each other, but they spent so much time trying to better each other and were actively encouraged to do so. Arthur has been less competitive than him or Margaret, but he had never known the complete acceptance that Anne was speaking of.

'She is my sister and therefore the other half of me,' Anne continued, 'Mary was and is happy in life, she was happy in her situation, but father was never satisfied, he dressed her in the finest of clothes, more so than me, and he had her instructed in fashion and although Mary never confirmed it, I believe he had her taught in other things…'

'That's horrible,' Henry exclaimed understanding what Anne was talking of.

'She never spoke of it, but one day she came back from a private lesson with a woman I had never seen before and who we never saw again. She was quiet, unusually so, and wouldn't talk of it, but since then she behaved around men differently, father had trained her in seduction and when we went to France she was encouraged to become King Francis's mistress. It was hard on both of us as Claude's ladies in waiting, but Francis abused Claude so cruelly that I think she was rather glad Mary was there, because she never said anything and always treated Mary kindly,' Anne finished.

'Where is she now?' Henry asked.

'She lives in the country, in one of my father's smaller houses with a few servants, she does not like court for the things people say about her,' Anne replied.

'Poor girl,' Henry said.

'Yes, I miss the girl she used to be,' Anne whispered.

'I'm sorry I thought so little of her,' Henry said.

'Thank you for your apology,' Anne replied.

'You should bring her back to court,' Henry told her.

'I would, but I doubt she'd come,' Anne said.

'Then what does she want? What can I do for her?' Henry begged anxious to somehow help the poor girl he had taken advantage of.

'She just wants to be loved,' Anne replied.

'You should bring her back to court, and I will introduce her to as many men as I can find,' Henry boasted.

'And who would overlook her past?' Anne asked sceptically.

'I will dower her,' Henry replied.

'Then they would love her for her money?'

Henry sighed in frustration, but knowing that it was a complex situation he let it go for now and gently stroked his love's hair.

'Thank you for forgiving me,' Henry said.

'Of course.'

Henry's hand drifted down her satin smooth skin and gently came to rest on her still flat stomach. He stroked there gently before looking up into his love's beautiful eyes.

'I can't wait to marry you,' Henry said.

'I can't wait to be your wife,' Anne laughed.

'You will be a fantastic mother,' Henry told her.

'Do you think so?' Anne whispered.

'Of course, do not doubt it,' Henry replied.

With those words the two lovers snuggled close and gently fell to sleep confident that everything would be well.

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 **Well what do you think?**

 **Please review.**

 **By the way I know in history Anne's mother is still alive, but she is not shown in the TV series, therefore she is staying dead I'm afraid. Remember that this is fanfiction folks!**


	14. Chapter 14

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

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 **A shorter chapter this time guys, I was going to add to it with a bit of henry and Anne but the tone didn't seem right. Think this needed its own small section.**

 **Let me know what you think!**

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The Princess Mary, as she still called herself, strolled through Whitehall with her head held high, she pointedly ignored the whispers and the stares that were sent her way. Her Mother was leaving today, and she would not let her leave without first seeing her, and trying to prevent it. Mary did not believe that her Mother was unfaithful to her Father, she would not believe it, her Mother was a devout catholic and a loving wife and Mother, and she would never disrespect her Father like that.

Mary had grown up with Spanish tutors, and Spanish servants, all overlooked by her Mother. Her Father had very little say in her schooling and Mary liked it that way. He was the King and was far too important to spend time on trivial matters, she was content to have his love and affection, and her Mother's attention. Her Mother was beautiful, and Mary looked up to her a lot. She loved her more than anything else in the world, other than God. She could not believe her Father had sent her away and divorced her. He was ruining everything.

She remembered a time when they were happy, she was young and innocent, but she saw the way her Father had looked at her Mother; he had doted on her every word and had ravished her with such affection. Then her Mother and failed to produce him heirs, and he had changed, he was distant and cold with her and her Mother. He had still loved them both, and still showed them affection, but Mary noticed the difference. Mary could not understand why? _She_ was his heir, _she_ would be Queen, and her Mother had _succeeded_ in giving him an heir. The fact that God had taken away her brothers and sisters, was a sign that she was meant to rule. She firmly believed that. She had thought the people had as well, but lately they had taken to flocking to that whore Anne Boleyn.

She had not seen much of the lady in question, if she could be called such a thing. Apparently she was a great beauty with a distant claim to nobility and royalty from the thirteenth century, her family was out of fashion and her only redeeming grace was her connection to the Howards. She was not a daughter of Kings and Queens, like her. Yet her Father was infatuated with her. She had discussed this with her Mother, and they had both firmly agreed that he would tire of her eventually. However, it had not happened, she was eight years old when Henry had met Anne, and now she was fourteen. It had been five years and he had still not tired of her. And now she had succeeded in getting rid of her Mother and introducing heresy to England.

Lutheranism was a plague that deserved to be burned out. When she was Queen, she would firmly see to it that anyone following that heretical, so called religion would be wiped off the face of the earth and sent to hell where they belonged. That whore had twisted her Father's mind, and now the people of England were adopting the religion in numbers. Some obviously campaigned against the change, but instead of knocking them down as she would have expected of her father, instead, her Father had been clever, and allowed them their complaints and protests, and had listened instead of taking action. This diplomatic approach had only endeared him more to the people and to Anne.

It was a horrible situation.

Mary barged into her Mother's apartments that had once been lavishly decorated as befitting a Queen, but were now diminished, and replaced with plain objects and furniture, anything of value had been removed and servants were busy packing away her Mother's belongings. They stopped upon seeing her, but did not curtsey which irked her greatly.

'Where is my Mother?' Mary demanded of them.

'Lady Katherine is in her room, madam,' one replied, and Mary felt her anger boil.

 _'Queen_ Katherine, and you will address _me_ as Princess!' Mary demanded.

'That would be against the law, madam,' the rude servant replied.

Mary stepped forward in anger, the temper she had inherited from her Father, flared up and she was prepared to strike the insolent servant for daring to talk to her as such.

'Mary?' Her Mother's voice distracted her and she turned to see her Mother framed in the doorway to her bedchamber.

The servants did not curtsey on seeing her, and instead carried on their business, again infuriating Mary.

'Come,' Her Mother instructed and turned back into her room.

Mary strolled in and banged the door closed behind her.

'How dare they speak to me that way, and how dare they disrespect you?!' Mary thundered.

'I am not Queen anymore, my dear.' Katherine sighed and sat heavily down on a chair as if moving physically hurt her.

Her Mother had long since lost the beauty that came from youth and good health, but she had aged well and still had the bearing of an elegant lady. However she appeared tired and sad and it broke Mary's heart. She strolled forward and knelt at her feet and took her Mother's hand in hers.

'Father will come round,' Marry assured her with kind eyes.

'No he won't,' Katherine disagreed.

'But you haven't done anything wrong!' Mary exclaimed.

'I gave royal jewels to a man I should not have,' Katherine replied sadly.

'As a token of friendship,' Mary replied.

'It was not seen that way,' Katherine replied.

'It was an innocent gesture!'

'Which was used against me,' Katherine replied. 'I played the game and I lost my dear, your Father has no love for me anymore.'

'That's not true, I can talk to him,' Mary tried.

'Nothing you say will make any difference, he knows that I lied,' Katherine replied.

'Lied about what?'

'My affection and relationship with his brother Arthur, who I loved with all my heart, and who Henry could never replace,' Katherine said sadly meeting her daughter's eyes. 'I could not lie to him anymore, he didn't deserve it.'

'The Pope gave you a dispensation to marry Father!' Mary exclaimed.

'It does not change the fact that I lied to him,' Katherine replied.

'But you love him,' Mary tried again wondering why her Mother was giving up so easily.

'Yes I did, but not enough, and not more than his brother, he knew that deep down, it's why he turned away from me in the first place,' Katherine said.

'He turned away because of your failed pregnancies,' Mary righted.

'No, Henry held me in his arms after each miscarriage and still birth, he assured me of his love and his love for you and assured me everything would be well,' Katherine replied with a melancholy smile.

'Then I don't understand,' Mary said confused. Why in the face of such acceptance has Henry turned away from them?

'He turned away from me, because I did not look at him in the same way I looked at his brother, and because he knew deep down I had lied about consummating the marriage, and that by doing so I had unconsciously killed any child to come from my womb.'

'But you had _me_!'

'Yes, a _girl_ and all the boys that followed did not survive,' Katherine replied.

'I can be a great Queen, you told me that,' Mary said.

'I know you will be, but I doubt your Father will trust you now.'

'Of course he will!'

'He knows the high regard you have for me and the relationship we have. He knows you were schooled in Spanish ways, and traditions. He knows you are more Spanish than you are English, he will doubt you!' Katherine cried with tears coming down her face.

'He would not doubt me if that whore had not turned up!' Mary exclaimed.

'Perhaps,' Katherine replied, 'but she will be his Queen, and if she delivers him sons, you will be cast aside, and it will destroy me.'

'Then we won't let her deliver any sons,' Mary coldly replied making Katherine's eyes shoot up in alarm.

'Mary, you must not get involved with that woman, your Father loves her fiercely and if it comes to choosing between you and her, he will chose her, do not risk you Father's love.'

'He can't chose her if she's dead!' Mary spat.

'No Mother, you have heard the rumours from Italy, that the Pope has even given allowances for her to be killed, she is destroying England and destroying our Father, the Pope knows this. _God_ knows this and therefore she must be killed for the heretic witch she is,' Mary said vehemently.

'Mary, God has forsaken this family, do not risk your life and your Father's love on such speculation,' Katherine exclaimed.

'I would risk everything for you Mother,' Mary said kissing her Mother's hand. 'When Ambassador Chapuys gets here I am sure he will help us, I'm sure Charles will help us too!'

'Your cousin is in a difficult place my dear, if he stands behind us then he risks war with England and her allies, and the evidence against me and Mendoza are damning, he will not save us.'

'I will speak with Chapuys and we will change his mind!' Mary said.

'Mary, you are young, you are clever, marry and live your life, and forget about this!' Katherine exclaimed.

'I will, as soon as you are restored as Queen, and that witch has turned to ashes!'

With that Mary rose and kissed her Mother's cheek and whispered assurances in her ear and turned to leave. She knew her Mother had lost her spirit after the trial and the way she had been humiliated, she accepted this. But she would fix the situation, she would show the world that she was the rightful heir and her Mother the rightful Queen. She would restore the proper religion to England and pull her Father away from the wench. She vowed it in her prayers and before God, that she would rid the world of Anne Boleyn.

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 **Please Review Guys!**


	15. Chapter 15

**So I had some imbecile complaining about the curse words used and that 16th century men wouldn't have used them. The words 'fuck' 'cunt' 'whore' are regularly used In the TV show which is what this section of fanfiction is listed under. This is not historical fiction. I have never claimed that it is. If you're looking for historical fiction stop reading right now, because this is fanfiction off of the TV series The Tudors. Not of actual history.**

 **Also please don't think I do my research before I write because I do**

 **Cunt – Mohr notes that during the Middle Ages, this was the word typically used to describe a woman's vagina, even appearing in medical texts. If you were in town looking for a prostitute, you might get directed to Gropecuntelane. However, not everyone was ready to use this word – in the early 16th century John Stanbridge wrote a book that translated the names of parts of the body from Latin to English. While he did write about arse hole, piss and "a man's yard (penis)" when it came to the term _locus ubi puer concipitur_ , he writes it as "the place where a boy is conceived."**

 **Fuck- comes from a 1475 poem and comes from latin where it is spelled _fuccant_ (conjugated as if a Latin verb meaning "they fuck"). The word is thousands of years old, able to be traced back to Proto-Germanic origin, and is related to Dutch fokken and _fukka._**

 **Whore-It is originated from old Germanic word "horon".**  
 **In prehistoric Indo-European language root " _ka" means like/desire. This "ka" came into Germanic language as khoraz/khora,_ the feminine form of which was _khoron/horon. Eventually this word became old English "hore"._**  
 **And the word "whore" is originated from late old English word "hore".**  
 **the definition of hore**

 **Yeah guys, don't try and outsmart me or waste your time flaming me. _I've done my research why don't you do yours before trying to insult my story which is I repeat fanfiction!_**

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 _"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

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 _She was pregnant and couldn't satisfy me, I was frustrated; the mess my country in was all her fault. It would be worth it when my son was born, but I was still frustrated. She slept so beautifully next to me, oblivious to my need, and the glares I sent her way._

 _We were in court and Anne was the soul of the party, heavily pregnant with my child and beautiful, yet my gaze was on the new girl who Brandon told me was called Eleanor Luke. She was blonde and plain and everything Anne wasn't and I felt my arousal stir. I wanted someone completely opposite to her, anything to get my mind off her. Brandon arranged it, encouraged me, and I did it unknown to her._

 _She was in labour and I was with my mistress ignorant to her distress and pain. I was interrupted and informed she had given birth and I rushed to her side to see a girl in her arms. I was annoyed, angry, humiliated, the whole of Europe would be laughing at me and it would be her fault. I calmed myself and managed to spit out words and assured her that boys would follow._

 _She was dancing with Smeaton, they were a beautiful sight together, exotic and graceful and whilst I knew she would never betray me I was jealous. I didn't want her, but no one else could have her. I danced with Eleanor and I was happy, I knew she saw and I smirked inside at the pain I was causing her._

 _The anger I felt when I had to send Eleanor away over the allegations of stealing. The hatred she made me feel for my own daughter, the rage she made me feel knowing that I had brought pain and havoc on my country for nothing._

 _The ride through the woods and my encounter with my angel. The sweetest dumbest blondest girl I could ever have found. She was perfect sweet and obedient, also dull, graceless and with a simple beauty. Everything I found myself suddenly wanting. Everything that was different to Anne. Everything I said she agreed with, everything I asked of her she did with a smile on her face. Jane was her name, the name of my angel._

 _She was pregnant with my child again, and relief came over me as finally I would have my boy. I looked after her and hid my affairs and gave her jewels and everything she asked for. She argued with me over the religious houses, wanting to put them to good use. It was a good idea, but I hadn't thought of it, therefore I didn't do it. We quarrelled and I gave Jane a locket with a picture of me in it, respective of the gift she had once given me, knowing that she would see it on my new sweetheart's neck._

 _She miscarried and I was angry, I neglected her, and I insulted her and I lavished attention instead upon sweet Jane. She screamed at me, and she glared at me and I watched in sought of a sick satisfaction as her mental stability left her._

 _I was jousting and I asked for my Jane's favour, my wife was kept inside away from me, as far away as I could get her. She was pregnant again, after a night of passionate almost angry lovemaking. She was truly a sight to behold that night, every man had admired her, and she had danced with everyone but me. Jealous I had eventually forced her to dance the Volta with me in front of everyone. I felt the passion and the hate between us and it was glorious, I wanted her to know that no one would ever claim her except me. No one would ever make her feel more than me._

 _I was happy she was pregnant and her promise would at last be fulfilled but I was angry that my plan to be rid of her and to replace her with Jane would have to be put on hold. My thoughts distracted me and I was injured jousting. Jane was there to comfort me and I kissed a sweet boring kiss on her lips in thanks. Anne walked in pregnant with a fiery passion and hurt and betrayal in her eyes. She screamed and she sobbed the absolute picture of mental stability._

 _She miscarried again and she dared blame it on me, she claimed to love me yet she lost my boy. My dead tiny boy that was placed in my arms by Linacre. I stared at him once, before thrusting him away from me. God would not grant me a child on her._

 _Brandon offered me an out, he told me of her infidelity and her witchcraft, and it all made sense to me. My obsession with her, her beauty, her very nature, it was all fake, to draw me in and seep away at my soul. She had done this to me. Witch! Then I learnt of her infidelities and the incest, and I was enraged. She couldn't have any other lover than me, she was MINE. If I did not have her love, if I did could not have her, no one could and I would make sure of it._

 _She begged me, our child in her arms, and I thrust past her ignoring them both. I knew my child was beautiful and intensely clever but she was a product of the witch and couldn't be trusted. I was therefore unmoved by her pleas. She fell to the ground clutching her child, sobbing helplessly and I ignored her and walked past._

 _She was imprisoned and I was with Jane and for the first time in years I was happy. I had them all killed, every man she had slept with, her brother, the musician, anyone who had been suggested to me I had their head struck from their bodies. I had placed her in a room where she could watch and I smirked as I imagined her watching and crying in anguish as her lovers were killed._

 _She asked for a French executioner and I granted it her, she was after all the mother of my daughter. He was late and I was glad, for it would draw out her suffering. He was late again and I started to get impatient. Impatient to be with Jane, and Impatient to get her pregnant. She was an inexperienced virgin and I had to do right by her, I knew I would tire of her quickly, she was no Anne. But once pregnant I could finally enjoy peace without her._

 _It was the day and I waited with baited breath throughout the day for news of her death. When I got it, I felt nothing, there was nothing, the hatred and the love and the passion had all disappeared and I was numb. They had knelt for her, they had prayed for her, she had been loved. I wasn't angry, I wasn't jealous. She had deserved it, she had been a Queen amongst women even without a crown. My love had both crowned and crucified her to a long drawn out painful death, and I had been her tormentor._

 _I would forever be looking for that same kind of emotion, that sense of life and purpose she had given me. I didn't find it in Jane or any other wife, or mistress. No one matched her, or came close. I found myself longing to see my daughter, longing for a glimpse of her in her eyes and her air. And I saw it, on many occasions, and it both haunted me and thrilled me. Her tutors told me of her intelligence, and of the translations and books she sent me, which astonished and moved me. The languages she learnt so quickly, and her accomplishments outstripped my son's and my other daughter. The tutors were calling her a genius and it both enraged and depressed me. Anne had fulfilled her promise, and it was only now that I saw that God has foreseen to deliver it to me in the form of a girl. Anne had given me everything and I had thrown it away. Her crimes, had been excuses to be rid of her, and the guilt swam through me._

 _Life was cruel, and I was crueller. I lived to serve my people and for the glances of my daughter. I knew she would never be Queen, my dullard weakling son, would become King, and if he did not sire a child then it would be Mary, a girl I so little understood. Obsessed with religion and her mother. I saw a lot of myself in her and it scared me. She would not be a good Queen, I saw a darkness in her that frightened me. But it was too late and I was dying. I was dying and I had accomplished nothing in my life. My reformation had been Anne, my greatest child had been Anne. My favourite memories were of Anne. My greatest love had been of Anne. I had loved her, I had hated her, and I had killed her. I had killed her, she was dead and the realisation destroyed me. I screamed and I cried and I hated myself, and I hated her more, for the obsession she had created in me that had torn both me and my country apart before putting us both back together._

 _'Anne!' I whispered her name over and over, replaying our moments of love over and over again._

 _My heart was slowing and I was scared, I did not know if I would see her again in heaven, or even if I would have a place in heaven. Surely I could not be seen in a place as fine, for all of my atrocities. But I did want to see her, I did. I wanted to beg her forgiveness, I wanted to strike her, I wanted to kiss her, and wrap my hands tightly around her neck and strangle her, the neck I had struck from her body. I wanted her. I needed her. But I had killed her._

* * *

'ANNE!' Henry woke up screaming, crying, and sobbing.

He pulled himself from the sheets he was tangled in and fell to the floor, he crawled gasping for breath, desperate to get somewhere, anywhere.

'Henry?' came a voice from the bed he had jumped out of.

Anne was startled awake by Henry calling her name. He sounded broken, and terrified and she was shocked to see him on the floor in nothing but his night clothes gasping for breath and sweating. She immediately ran out of bed and fell to his side putting her cold hands on his fevered skin. She was terrified. She had never seen him like this, they were due to go back to court tomorrow and this week at Hever had been perfect, and they were closer than ever.

She cursed herself for not bringing any servants, why had they not brought a physician? Where was Linacre when you needed him? Tears fell from her face silently as she tried to calm her spooked lover.

'Henry?' Anne questioned again.

Henry whipped round at the sound of her voice and harshly framed her face with his warm hands and looked at her with wide alarmed eyes. Anne stared back and tried to reach him with her voice, whispering sweet nothings and running a hand down his arm soothingly.

'I killed you, oh god I killed you!' Henry sobbed, dry heaving violently.

'Henry you're not well, I'm going for help,' Anne said scared for her love and made to move.

'Don't leave me!' Henry cried gasping her arms tightly almost harshly. 'Not again, please not again, I won't treat you like that again, please, please!'

'Okay,' Anne replied confused and continued her stroking of his arm.

Anne was alarmed and unsure of what to do, clearly he wasn't well, but was terrified of her leaving and she loved him so much that she abided by his request. Every night this week she had laid in his arms and talked of their future, and nothing had happened. But now, on their last night, something had clearly spooked the King.

'I killed you, I hated you, I killed you,' he kept repeating.

His words were starting to frighten her. He was clearing suffering from some sort of delusion.

'Henry, I'm here and I love you, I'm here, come back to me my love,' Anne whispered crying silently now and gently placing kisses on his hot face.

Henry's breathing gradually slowed and his tears stopped and his face began to lose the red tones that emotion had brought to his face. He took deep soothing breaths and breathed in air and then finally he began to look around the room, as if recognising where he was and then finally his gaze fell back on Anne and he sat back with a sigh and buried his face in his hands.

'It was so real,' he murmured.

'What was?' Anne questioned, moving to sit beside him on the cold floor and resume the stroking of her hand down his back.

'I had a dream, we were married, and we were happy for a time,' Henry said.

'It was just a dream Henry,' Anne cut him off guessing the rest of his tale.

'It seemed real, I hated you, and I loved you, but I was obsessed with you, just like you said to me,' Henry said resting his head on her shoulder.

'I don't believe that, and I never did,' Anne said.

'But it was true in the dream, I abused you, I neglected you, I blamed you for a perfect child because of its sex, and I killed you for crimes you didn't commit just so I could marry a woman who was not your equal,' Henry replied.

Anne didn't know what to say, on the one hand she was shocked at his tale and on the other she felt relief that it was just a dream and her future with Henry would never be like that.

'Henry look at me,' Anne said pulling his head from her shoulder and staring at him, 'I love you, and I know you love me, the child I'm carrying is proof of our love, and boy or girl, we will treasure it because it is part of us, not for its sex.'

'I know,' Henry nodded sniffing quietly, his face red from tears.

'We will solve any problems thrown at us, and we will defeat them together, and with love on our side. I am yours, and you are mine and ours will be a partnership of equals. In three days I will marry you, and I will be your Queen.'

'We will be strong together, as rulers and as a partnership,' Henry said nodding his agreement.

'Yes,' Anne smiled encouragingly.

Henry sighed and smiled shyly' 'I'm sorry for scaring you, are you okay?'

'You're asking if I'm okay?' Anne asked shocked.

'Of course, I shouldn't subject you to this kind of violent emotion in your state,' Henry said ashamedly.

'Henry I and our child are all the stronger for it,' Anne said grabbing his hand and gently placing it over her stomach encouragingly.

'I love you Anne,' Henry said staring at the beautiful girl before him with as much love as he could muster 'I love you so much.'

'And I you,' Anne replied faithfully and kissed him lovingly.

Together they rose and went back to bed and this time Anne encouraged Henry to rest his head on her breasts and although Henry resisted at first, embarrassed by the position, he was encouraged by Anne and finally he rested his head on his loves chest and placed a hand on her stomach stroking his unborn child gently. Anne leant down and kissed his hair and lovingly brushed her hand through the short bristles.

'I love you,' Henry whispered again.

'I love you too,' Anne replied.

She did not know what exactly it was he had seen in that dream but she had never seen that sought of outburst from Henry, even at the death of his son Henry Fitzroy. He had been distraught to the point of madness and the emotion he had for her astonished and humbled her. She realised that she held the heart of one of the most powerful men in the world in the palm of her hand. She could so easily crush him, hurt him, and the power intimidated her slightly. She had never wanted this, her father had brought her into the path of the King, but now she was humbled and grateful that she could know this man behind the crown, she loved him with everything she was. She would treasure him, and protect him, always. For as long as he would have her.

* * *

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	16. Chapter 16

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

 ** _Late January 1531_**

 ** _Anne is two months pregnant and due to give birth in Late June/Early August_**

* * *

The ride back to London was subdued, but content. Anne and Henry were both happy to be in each other's company, although Henry had been relatively quieter than usual and seemed to take a long time to ponder his words before speaking. Anne liked to think they were always frank with one another and this tip toeing around each other was starting to wear thin.

'Henry?' Anne asked inviting him into conversation.

'Yes my love?' Henry looked up smiling.

'Are you excited for the wedding?' Anne asked picking a joyful topic, but frowned as and look of worry passed over Henry's face.

Ever since his dream Henry had withdrawn slightly from Anne, he was terrified that something would destroy the trust and beauty they had found with each other. He was scared he would ruin everything and was hesitant to break the silence.

'Of course,' Henry replied

'Who has been making the arrangements?' Anne asked trying to draw him out.

'Cromwell, with some input from your ladies of course,' Henry smiled, then frowned as he considered Cromwell.

He was his most trusted advisor and servant now Wolsey was dead. But in the dream he had turned on Anne and had made an enemy of her. He now considered it a disaster that Cromwell was planning the wedding, and coronation, if Anne hated it, it would be his fault.

'That is good, Cromwell is a good man,' Anne said oblivious.

'Is he?' Henry questioned.

'Of course he is!' Anne laughed 'The man single handily gave you your freedom from Katherine and Rome, and has always given us sound support.'

'Yes,' Henry agreed so still worried. His face must have given himself away for Anne questioned him.

'Henry what has you so worried?' Anne asked.

'In my dream, so many people were against you, against us, I'm worried I am blindly trusting people I should be wary of,' Henry confessed.

'Henry it was just a dream, let it be for what it was,' Anne consoled reaching out to hold his hand.

'I know,' Henry whispered back squeezing her hand.

'You must trust in me, and trust in us,' Anne replied.

'I do, I do!' Henry exclaimed vehemently, 'It is other's that I do not trust.'

'Then we will trust in each other, and be on our guard, but not so much that we become paranoid,' Anne replied.

Henry sighed. She was right, it was just a dream and he was paranoid over something that had not happened. Anne was here and she was alive and well and pregnant with their child. No one had spread malicious gossip about her, the people loved her. Only Brandon so far had spoken against her.

'You're right as always my love,' Henry smiled and leant quickly to kiss her full lips.

* * *

Newly appointed ambassador Chapuys watched with concerned eyes as Princess Mary, a girl he loved like his own daughter paced up and down in front of him, from where they were meeting in her presence chamber. The poor late Queen Katherine, her mother, had been dismissed to Ludlow castle away from court, and Mary was frantic with anger. Her father was coming back from his trip and the wedding and coronation to that whore would take place in just two days.

Mary had been positive that a crowd would have gathered to protest her mother's leaving, but there had been no one, not even her stout supporter and friend Thomas More has been there, though he had written to confess his condolences.

Mary was frantic, and anxious, in just two days, her father would be lost to her forever, and England would forever be sorry for it. She didn't know how to act, she wished and prayed that God would strike the evil woman off the face of the world but so for had had not answered her.

'What am I going to do?' Mary asked still pacing in front of Chapuys.

'For now nothing,' Chapuys replied.

'Nothing!?' Mary exclaimed turning and glaring at him, 'my mother is banished and the whole of this country is about to be turned upside down!'

'Yes your mother is banished, and my predecessor remains a prisoner in the tower, you cannot persuade the King out of this Princess,' Chapuys.

'What kind of hold does she have on him? How has she done it?' Mary exclaimed furiously stamping her foot.

'Perhaps she is a child of the devil,' Chapuys said.

'Yes, that must be it, she's a witch, and no wonder the pope has condemned her!' Mary spat.

'My dear you must not speak that aloud, if word got out that Rome as trying to rid the world of the King's love, I dread to think of the destruction the King would rein down, on our holy city,' Chapuys warned.

'You don't understand, she has to go. She must die!' Mary exclaimed panting in frustration.

'Calm yourself child, we will not give up,' Chapuys soothed and ran a hand down her hair soothingly.

'She will ruin England,' Mary whispered sounding heartbroken, 'like she ruined my mother.'

'You will be Queen one day Mary, and you will right this wrong,' Chapuys assured her.

'The witch is young, she will give my father children, and I will not be Queen,' Mary sulked.

'Perhaps you should talk to him about your fears, calmly and with an open heart, the King loves you and I'm sure if you spoke of your fears, and of your sadness that he would take it into consideration. You are his only heir Mary, he loves you.' Chapuys assured her.

'And if he does not?' Mary asked looking at him sideways.

'Then it is best you do not ask me, for the less you know the better,' Chapuys said.

He had recently been in contact with one of the Kings groomsmen. A young devout catholic, loyal to Rome and the emperor and hated the King's harlot with a passion. His name was William Brereton and he had spoken earnestly with him about the Pope's task, and the boy had eagerly agreed. Despite his low position, the young man was intelligent and agile and was keen to do God's work. Chapuys had assured him of the Pope's commission and of the rewards his success would bring. He had told him to hold off any plans however until Mary spoke with her father. Hopefully blood would not need to be shed and Mary would make her father see reason. They were tied by blood, and he and the harlot were tied by nothing. One way or another, he would see Mary on the throne.

* * *

They arrived in London to much cheer, a crowd had gathered which surprised them, for they had thought their week away had been a secret, but apparently whispers had gotten around that the King and his lady had been on a Progress. Anne had initially shrunk back in her seat anxious not be seen, but Henry had laughed and waved as he was trained to do, whilst simultaneously managing to get a guard to appear to escort them, from the confines of the carriage. It was times like this that Anne was in awe of him.

'Lady Anne!'

'Long live Lady Anne!'

The shouts were discernible now and Anne gasped to hear her name called out. She was not even Queen yet and people were calling her name and blessing her. Emotion poured through her and she felt her eyes well up at the honour she was being shown. These people believed in her, and believed in her cause and it moved her to tears, of the weight of responsibility that rested on her shoulders.

The carriage pulled into Whitehall and the crowd had gathered around waiting for a glimpse of their soon to be Queen. Henry hopped out eagerly to cheering people and gladly touched their hands and deposited coins in them, the guards hesitantly surrounding him as he did so. He then went round the side and escorted Anne out of the carriage himself to cheers from the crowd. Laughing he lifted her and swung her around and the people responded. Anne laughed and kissed his cheek to the approval of the masses and then hesitantly waved at them and blew kisses to the now familiar faces that surrounded her.

Slowly they made their way inside the palace and was shocked at the difference in noise level. The masses were shut out and now they had descended into the wolves nest. Anne's smile shifted slightly and she drew herself up poised and serene into the serenity Henry now realised she showed whenever in court. A defence mechanism he realised. He was glad he now knew both sides to this mysterious woman, and was happy he could call her his own.

Anne's ladies descended simpering and curtseying and fawning over Anne as was their role, but to Henry they seemed lot more sincere than the previous ladies maids he had known Katherine to have. He was happy that she had people loyal to her that she could trust.

'I will return to court, I will see you there shortly if you are feeling well?' Henry asked Anne assessing her flushed face, anxious that too much excitement could injure her.

'Of course, I will make myself presentable,' Anne replied.

'You already are,' Henry admonished.

'Then I shall make myself the envy of everyone in the room,' Anne boasted with laughing eyes.

'Again, you already are my love,' Henry smiled.

Anne laughed and kissed his cheek and with a lingering look ascended up the many stairs to her apartments with her ladies in tow.

* * *

Henry entered his presence chamber and seated himself upon his throne, the adjacent one had been taken away as Katherine had now been cast aside. He smiled at the thought that soon it would be Anne sat next to him.

Cromwell was the first to greet him, giving him news on the affairs of his country, he spoke vehemently about uprisings against the new protestant wave and made good arguments for force to be moved to break up the rioters. Henry however was not too quick to agree, and asked for further information.

'Riots you say?' Henry asked.

'Yes your majesty,' Cromwell confirmed.

'Norfolk?' Henry called Anne's uncle forward, he disliked the man. More so now for he knew the games he had been playing to manipulate him and Anne. However the Howards were one of the oldest and richest families in England and he would not easily cast them aside.

'Your majesty?' Norfolk replied bowing low in the graceful manner he had, smiling eagerly.

'How is your estate, are people accepting me as head of the church?' Henry asked.

'Your majesty, as far as I'm aware most people are accepting, some are fearful about their religious buildings and their fate, and some are holding public talk's about Catholicism and the merits, but I have seen no violence,' Norfolk concluded.

'That is just one county your majesty,' Cromwell stated.

'Well I want your words validated by others, I will not threaten violence against peaceful protesters,' Henry stated loudly and for all to hear.

'Your majesty, how will that reinforce your position?' Cromwell asked.

'The majority do accept it Cromwell, this is a new age for England and as such it will take time to conform, I will not hinder it by spreading violence, and hindering both myself and everything I have worked to gain,' Henry stated.

Cromwell bowed in answer but his pursed lips showed Henry that he wasn't happy. His obsession with Lutheranism seemed parallel to More's obsession with Catholicism. Such obsession wasn't healthy. Henry valued Cromwell, he was clever and a good thinker, and had risen through the ranks giving him an edge over others. But he would not allow fanatics to drive his country into chaos.

'The lady Mary!' An announcer called out.

Henry turned as did all the others as his daughter walked into the room, she was dressed in dark colours that made her pale skin seem luminous, she seemed dark and sullen, and not like the Princess she proclaimed herself to be. Her hair was expertly styled but with no adornments, just the Spanish style hood that both she and her mother had favoured. It gave her a grim countenance that should have been beautiful. Still, Henry loved his pearl, and whatever she chose to wear and was comfortable in he would support.

'Mary!' Henry exclaimed and leapt forwards to embrace his only living child, but was astonished when she sank into a deep graceful curtsey instead of hurrying into his arms as she had done when she was a child.

At fourteen years of age, Mary was a woman grown and all the liveliness and humour he had hoped to pass on to her had gone and in its place all he saw was a shadow of her mother and the piety and seriousness she had adopted throughout life.

'How are you daughter?' Henry asked adopting the formality Mary seemed to crave a bid her rise.

'I am well,' Mary said straight faced.

'Are you here to welcome me back to court?' Henry asked.

'I would seek an audience with his majesty, when possible?' Mary asked quietly.

'Of course!' Henry replied.

He turned to the men in the room and bid them leave, they immediately bowed and moved to leave. Although Norfolk cast a foreboding glance at her before leaving.

Henry took his daughters hand in his, forcing her to accept some touch of affection from him and gently escorted her to the window and to the view out into the gardens, hoping that the sun shining through would throw some light upon her face and give her some much needed colour.

'How are you?' Henry asked when they were settled.

Mary turned to gaze frustrated eyes onto her father, a man she barely knew but loved nonetheless.

'I am sad,' Mary replied simply.

Henry sighed and looked down at his hands, he knew why Mary was sad, he was not an idiot, but he did not know how to make her happy, he would not get rid of Anne, the thought had never even been pondered. He just prayed that eventually Mary would accept her.

'Why am I not a Princess anymore?' Mary asked bluntly.

'Because my marriage with your mother was invalid,' Henry replied.

'Not in the eyes of Rome, and not in the eyes of God,' Mary stressed.

'Rome has no bearing on this country anymore, the matter is a theological one, and all the main European universities have voted in my favour, England and it's bishops and cardinals voted in my favour. As for God, Katherine broke God's law when she lied to me, for then on, our marriage was doomed,' Henry said.

'You were happy to marry her when the Pope gave you a dispensation,' Mary replied stubbornly.

'Yes, because Katherine promised me, and I foolishly believed her, that she was intact and untouched by my brother,' Henry replied.

'She loved you, she still loves you,' Mary said seizing her father's arm.

'Whether she loved me or not is immaterial, her lies have had great consequences,' Henry replied.

'What consequences? England was at peace, we were happy, and you had me,' Mary replied.

'And your brothers and sisters? What about them?' Henry asked.

'You had me,' Mary insisted.

'Children die Mary, one girl is not enough to secure my line, you are sick often, you have no interest in English customs or its people, you dress in the Spain's style,' Henry said gesturing at her apparel, 'Your speech is accented, the people would not support you,' Henry insisted.

'My mother brought me up as is proper, the Spanish court and monarchy has been established and well ruled for centuries, she did what she thought was best,' Mary replied.

'And It was wrong, she lied to me, she corrupted you, she betrayed English secrets to Spain, and gave her loyalty to her nephew and her affections to a Spanish ambassador,' Henry said feeling his temper rising.

'And if you hadn't met _her,_ I wonder if you would think the same?' Mary asked spitefully.

'Mary I had my doubts long before I met Anne, I was unfaithful to your mother long before I met Anne,' Henry replied.

'But you suddenly decided to act when you met her,' Mary said stepping into his space with fire in her eyes, 'what hold does she have over you papa that you would risk your family, your country, and it's people for her?'

'The people love her,' Henry told his daughter his temper rising.

'Lutheranism is a plague, and she is the catalyst, if you go down this path, England will burn,' Mary shouted ignoring the fact that the people seemed to have moved in Anne's favour.

'People have the right to believe what they want to believe, we all believe in God Mary!' Henry said calmly refusing to rise to Mary's tone of voice.

'That is heresy father, you were a devout catholic until it suited you to turn from it, to get rid of _my_ mother!' Mary yelled now.

'No, I turned from Catholicism, because it is corrupt, those cardinals and bishops you praise? How many have mistresses and children? How many live in lavish houses filled with gold that they have taken from their sovereign and it's people?' Henry yelled back.

'Some make mistakes,' Mary replied earnestly.

'Have you seen the poor folk Mary? Anne has, she visits them regularly, they have no hope and no money and nothing to believe in, because the religion they are taught is unattainable to them. They have to crawl on their hands and knees to superstition and nonsense, just for a glimpse of God's word because it is written in a language even _you_ cannot speak! They do not have any say in the matter, they cannot take their own readings from the bible, instead they are forced to have interpretations twisted and corrupted to suit the church's own ends shoved down their throats, and meanwhile the people suffer!' Henry replied.

Mary stared at her father in shock, unbelieving that such words of heresy could come out of his mouth, she firmly believed that that harlot was sent from Satan and had corrupted her father.

'You were once called defender of the faith, you told Sir Thomas that Lutheran's should be burned, you wrote a pamphlet about it, from your own hand!' Mary yelled.

'Before I understood the truth!' Henry yelled back.

'The truth is that woman is evil, and she is a witch, whatever spell she has cast upon you has turned you away from this country and will lead it into hell!' Mary spat.

'Do not say such words about her!' Henry shouted his eyes flaring widely.

'It is the truth and everyone knows it!' Mary shouted back.

'You know nothing about her!'

'She stole you from us, you never turned from us for a pretty face before, but something about her changed you! She is evil father!' Mary insisted.

'There _is_ something different about her of that you are right! She is virtuous and kind, and intelligent and beautiful and is the most fascinating woman I have ever beheld, she is not evil!'

'She's nothing but a whore! Once she spreads her legs for you, you will tire of her, and then you will see her for what she really is!'

'You have no right!' Henry stormed forwards and grasped his child by the throat, the speed in which he moved alarmed Mary who froze in shock.

'Anne is no whore, she has given herself to one man only which is more than I can say for the woman you call mother!' Henry screamed at her.

Mary has never seen her father so angry before. She had planned to come here calmly and express her thoughts and doubts quietly and efficiently and instead she had succumbed to emotion, and now she was paying the price. Never had her father raised a hand to her, her tutors had on many occasions, even her mother had smacked her when she had been especially naughty, but _never_ her father.

'Henry!' a musical voice called out in shock.

Henry dropped Mary instantly and spun to see Anne now dressed and clothed in a dress of brilliant green velvet and was staring in horror at what she had walked in on. Henry stepped back from his daughter in shock who had sank to the floor in fear. Never had he wanted to harm his daughter, he and Anne had both spoken how they had loathed violence of any sort against children, and yet here he was abusing his own child. But she had enraged him so much with her words. He had no idea his child even knew of such things never mind speaking them. When had Mary become such a spiteful child?

Anne ran to the lady Mary and turned her face towards her to assess her. She appeared fine but shaken and there were no marks around her neck, it appeared Henry's grip had not been hard. She tenderly rubbed the girl's arm in comfort and finally reality seemed to come back into her eyes, and she saw who was helping her.

'You!' she screamed and in an instant Anne was being attacked.

Mary threw herself at Anne with all the violence of a feral cat clawing and pulling at Anne's face and hair and beating her tiny fits upon her clothed body.

'You witch!' She screamed.

Anne cried out and tried to push the girl off but she was surprisingly agile and persisted in her violence punching and screaming at her in a rage Anne had never seen before.

'Anne!' Henry cried out alarmed.

Striding forwards he caught his daughter around the waist and pulled her off of his beloved. Mary did not come easily, her arms reaching out for any part of Anne she could reach. He pulled her around so she was not facing her, and pulled her arms behind her back restraining her. A sharp cry of pain caused both of them to turn around however.

Anne was now knelt up and was deathly pale and was clutching at her stomach. Henry's eyes widened and he pushed Mary away who was calm as rapidly the situation and Anne's condition become clear to her.

'Anne?' Henry questioned rushing forwards and grasping her face.

'My stomach, the baby,' Anne whispered.

Mary heard however and gasped in horror, the whore was _pregnant_. It was all for nothing! If she gave birth to a boy Mary would never sit on the throne, she was losing everything. She could only hope that the harlot was distressed enough to miscarry.

'Mary fetch Linacre!' Henry ordered her.

'No!' Mary said stubbornly glaring at Anne.

'I am the King, and I am ordering you on pain of treason to get the physician!' Henry yelled finally turning wide eyes on his daughter.

Mary knew she could not refuse such a request and made to move towards the door. Henry turned back to Anne, but Anne raised her eyes and locked them with Mary. In those blue eyes Mary saw a determination and a resolute promise. She was not going to give up, she would never leave her father. She would remain a constant thorn in her side. Mary stared back with the same resolution knowing that somehow they would be each other's doom. Mary turned and flounced out of the room to get a guard to call for Linacre.

Anne may have won this round, but she would not win the war, the war was just beginning and with Chapuys's help she would win. One way or another she would see to the end of Anne Boleyn.

* * *

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 **It really keeps me motivated!**


	17. Chapter 17

**_Thank you to the people who review, especially the ones who do so every chapter! You guy's are the best!_**

* * *

 _"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Henry held Anne in his arms on the floor of his presence chamber with the whole of the court just beyond the room. She was sobbing and crying and he gently sat behind her and held her back to his chest and ran a hand over her stomach and the other across her forehead. He made hushing noises, and spoke to her quietly, gently calming her, rocking her backwards and forwards with soothing motions.

'Am I bleeding?' Anne croaked from where her head was laid back against Henry's neck.

This was hardly the place for this to be happening. They were in public, and so far Anne's pregnancy was a secret, yet here they were in the middle of court with only a set of double doors, preventing the whole of England finding out.

Henry checked her dress and slipped a hand under her skirts to stroke at her legs. He felt no wetness and when he removed his hand there was no blood.

'I don't think so my love, just relax and listen to my voice,' Henry whispered and resumed his rocking motions.

'It hurts,' Anne croaked.

'Hush, everything will be okay, I love you, and everything will be okay,' Henry replied lovingly stroking her sweat soaked forehead again and pressing kisses to the back of her head.

Anne was still shaking and crying, and he was worried that people would hear. He was not worried for himself, he would happily tell the entire world that Anne was pregnant and hold his head up proudly, but she so wanted it to remain a secret, and to give the illusion of everything being done properly. Slowly he began sing, he rarely performed music to an audience, preferring solitude when composing and performing, but he sang for Anne occasionally, and was reliably told he had a wonderful voice. The song was called Greensleeves and he had wrote it for her, picturing her in this very dress, and when he was missing her as she had retreated to Hever after one of their arguments.

 _Greensleeves was all my joy  
Greensleeves was my delight  
Greensleeves was my heart of gold  
And who but my lady Greensleeves_

Slowly the music relaxed her and Henry felt her relax in his arms, her crying and sobbing reduced to laboured breathing, and slowly her body began to lose its rigidity.

'That's beautiful,' Anne whispered cocking her head listening to him sing.

'It should be, it's about you,' Henry replied lovingly kissing her head.

'It doesn't hurt so much now,' Anne replied.

'Good,' Henry replied, he wanted to curse Mary, and shout and rage but knew that wasn't what Anne needed right now.

Suddenly the doors opened and Linacre rushed in, quickly closing the door behind him before anyone could observe the scene inside. He bowed once before quickly rushing over to where they were seated together.

'What happened?' Linacre asked, quickly pressing a hand to Anne's forehead and checking her pupils.

'My daughter attacked her, and she felt pain in her stomach,' Henry spat out unable to hide the anger.

Linacre was so professional he refrained from showing shock and instead looked around him as if to despair at the situation they found themselves in.

'I need to inspect her your majesty, normally I wouldn't dream of doing this is such a place, but we cannot move her until I know more,' Linacre said.

'Of course doctor,' Henry replied.

Anne moaned in distress at the embarrassment and humiliation of it all. Here she was in one of her best dresses, in her soon to be husband's arms, in public, about to be intimately examined by doctor Linacre.

'Hush Anne dearest, I will not leave you,' Henry soothingly stroked her back.

Gently the doctor encouraged Anne to lean further back into Henry's arms and Henry turned her face away and into his neck where he lovingly bestowed kisses upon her face as the doctor lifted her skirts and felt beneath them. Anne moaned in distress but Henry simply hushed her and whispered endearments and adorations.

Once he was done the doctor then, with the help on Henry, undid her dress and felt her stomach for signs of tenderness. He then sat back and turned to his bag as the king helped Anne fasten her dress, and fix her appearance.

'My lady you have not miscarried,' Linacre assured her.

'Thank God!' Henry whispered and kissed Anne's cheek.

'But the pain I felt!' Anne replied confused.

'Some ladies go through their pregnancy and sometimes can feel pain that they associate with labour, however they are just phantoms, and are simply a sign of a healthy baby, who is developing well and keen to move,' Linacre assured her.

'You hear that my love?' Henry laughed, 'he's just impatient to be with us.'

'Or _she_ doesn't like being inside me perhaps,' Anne replied emphasising the 'she'.

Henry laughed and kissed her again, 'Impossible!'

'I would like to do regular check-ups on the Lady if your majesty would permit, and perhaps I could assign a midwife into her ladies of waiting?' Linacre asked.

'Of course, anything to keep you safe my love,' Henry replied to Anne.

'What about the wedding? The coronation? Can I still attend?' Anne asked worried she would have to miss or postpone her own wedding.

'I see no problem in you proceeding with the events, as long as drama and emotion are kept to a minimum,' Linacre warned

'Of course, we will take all precaution,' Henry replied.

'Very well,' Linacre said rising, and bowing and then left the couple to their present situation.

'What are we going to do?' Anne asked gesturing around her and their state, 'the courtiers must have seen Mary leave and heard her ask for Linacre, what will they be thinking?'

'They will be thinking that you had a sudden faint as a result of your stays being tied too tight, which will explain your current appearance.' Henry replied thinking quickly.

'I need to rest,' Anne replied looking tired, 'How can I leave like this?!'

'I will escort you out, here lean on me and look sick,' Henry laughed and Anne obliged.

Together they left and the courtiers immediately bowed low, and exclaimed about Anne and how ill she looked. Henry assured them and explained, she was just tired from the journey and needed to rest. Anne's ladies shot forward and took her out of the King's arms and made their way slowly up to her apartments.

* * *

Court resumed its normal bustle and Henry was able to retreat to his presence chamber and worry about the situation with his daughter. Never would he have believed that Mary could possess such foul language and such violence. He saw very clearly that nothing he could say would persuade her to accept Anne.

Her actions had almost hurt two people he very much loved and cared about, and although he was ashamed of his own actions, he could not find it in himself to forgive her yet. He knew he had to make a decision, by law he could have her arrested and put on trial. But she was his only daughter, and only living heir, doing so would alienate the people and label him as a tyrant, no matter if he told the truth about what she had done.

He eventually decided on banishment. He did not want to send her to Ludlow with Katherine, together there plotting could come to even more evil and he would not allow that to happen. He would send her to Hatfield with English tutors who would see about educating her as she should have been. With tutors of Henry's choice and not the Spanish ones Katherine had so coveted. Hopefully the knowledge would help straighten her out, and rid her of the bad habits and violence she seemed to have attained.

A message needed to be sent however. Mary needed to know that he was taking her violence seriously and that he was angry. He could not have her arrested, but he already had one Spaniard in the tower. Mendoza had been a prisoner for long enough and needed to be dealt with. The man was known to Mary, and hopefully his sentence would deter her from such actions in the future.

'Norfolk, Knivert!' Henry called and turned to see the men sweep into the room and bow low.

'Your majesty?' Norfolk asked.

'It is time we dealt with that traitor Mendoza, he is to be accused of treason, and sentenced to death, and there is no other outcome available for me. A message needs to be sent, that I will allow no one to make me look a fool.' Henry replied.

'What if Spain retaliates?' Anthony asked worried.

'How can they? Evidence is on our side, and Charles is lucky that I have not declared war on him for his Ambassador's crimes. He is lucky that I let his aunt keep her head, but he will not be so lucky that he will have his servant back. The man plotted against me, and stole jewels and favours from the Queen of England, that cannot go unpunished,' Henry said resolutely.

Anthony bowed in response and both quickly turned on their heels to make the arrangements. Now all he had to do was talk to his daughter.

* * *

Mary paced in her quarters. Following her confrontation with her father she had been sent to her rooms, under guard and allowed no visitors or servants. How had everything gone so wrong? When had her father changed and believed such things? She knew it was that whore, she knew it! Why couldn't her father see it?

When he had grabbed her by the throat it hadn't hurt, his grip hadn't been strong, but the fact that he had raised a hand to her had shocked her. Never had she seen such a look of anger and rage on her father's face. Had her words really moved him that much? If he felt such emotion about them, then surely it was because he knew that on some level she was right? He couldn't love that witch, more than he loved her could he?

Mary no longer knew what to believe, all she knew was that she couldn't let that woman sit on her mother's throne. And now she was pregnant! Everything just got worse! When she had turned to see who was helping her, she was shocked to gaze into the blue beautiful eyes of her worst enemy. The witch had actually dared to touch her! Dared to try and help her! Fearing that she would cast a spell on her, she had attacked her. She had never been violent, preferring words as weapons but on seeing the woman that had so ruined her life and her mother's, she had been unable to restrain herself.

When she had cried out in pain, Mary had instantly felt cold with dread, thinking she might have done serious damage and knew her father would not be pleased. But upon turning, she saw the harlot clutching at her stomach and muttering about her 'baby.' She was pregnant! The whore had spread her legs at last, but instead of her father getting bored of her, he only grew more enamoured because she happened to be carrying a child. Mary was no idiot, if the whore gave birth to a boy, it would be the end of her. Her father would have no need for her, and he would cast her aside, as easily as he had cast away her title of Princess. She would lose him. And she would lose her chance to fix this country.

She knew Chapuys had a plan, but he resolutely refused to confide in her. She knew about the Pope's commission too. Knowing too much could hurt her, she realised that, but her want for justice and revenge was building inside of her, and she didn't know how much more she could take. She would have to tell Chapuys to hurry up. Anne could not give birth to a boy at all costs, it would have to happen before then. Mary knew all life was sacred, but she did not believe this applied to Anne's unborn child, no matter if her father had fathered it. She was of the devil, and the child would take after her also. It could not be allowed to live. Neither of them could be allowed to live!

A knock on her door and she turned to see her father barge into her rooms, and she quickly fell into a deep curtsey making sure not to look him in the eye.

'Do you have any idea what you have done?' Henry asked quietly.

Mary rose and kept her eyes turned down. Perhaps she had already succeeded, perhaps the whore had miscarried and she had another chance again. If it was true, and she had miscarried, Mary had a lot more time in which to fix things. Perhaps the harlot would even perish with the child. It was a lot to hope for and she remained quiet waiting for her father to speak.

'You almost ruined everything!' Henry snarled at her.

Mary looked up now into the angry face of her father. 'Almost,' so she had not lost the child then. She was positive if she had, her father would waste no time talking, and would already be dragging her off to the tower for a week as punishment.

'Everything is _already_ ruined!' Mary replied.

'What happened to that sweet loving girl, I used to call the pearl of my world?' Henry whispered staring at his daughter as if she was a stranger.

'She disappeared when you chose _her_ over my mother,' Mary replied.

'We are never going to agree on this are we?' Henry asked redundantly and Mary did not answer.

'You are banished,' Henry said calmly.

'What?' Mary asked shocked. If she was sent away then she could not do anything. The whore would be out of her reach.

'You are to go to Hatfield, you may take your chaplain and ladies, but be under no disillusionment Mary this will be a punishment,' Henry replied.

'Why can I not go to my mother?' Mary asked.

'Because I am not an idiot, doing so would only make you more bitter and resentful, you are forbidden to see her, or write to her, until you can behave towards my future wife and your future Queen with the respect she deserves,' Henry told her.

Mary understood now. He was cutting her off from her mother, who she loved with all her heart. She would not be permitted to see her unless she was willing to yield. But she would not yield. Her mother hadn't and neither would she, together they would be strong and show England that Spanish women were of sterner stuff than most.

'Very well,' Mary replied holding her head high.

'You are to leave immediately,' Henry replied.

'If that is what your majesty wishes,' Mary replied and sank again into a low curtsey.

'It is,' Henry said nodding. He turned to leave and then turned cold eyes onto her to deliver his final warning, 'Ambassador Mendoza is to be executed for treason, hopefully this will send a message to all those who would conspire against me.'

Mary's eyes widened and before she could reply her father had left and she sank to the floor in disbelief. Mendoza had been her friend, along with Chapuys, he was a loyal Spaniard and good man and yet he would be taken from this world, for doing nothing more than befriending her mother. Her cousin had not stepped in believing the evidence to be genuine, and Mary cursed his cowardice. Although he had a larger army than England, he was well aware that the technology and ships they had were far more advanced than his. France was firmly allied with England and any attempt against them would be reckless and suicidal. Charles, she realised couldn't help her, if he did, he was risking her mother's life, and she knew he would rather see his ambassador dead than to endanger her mother. His loyalty and love was that great for her.

She knew the threat in her father's voice, she saw the way he looked at her. If she dared go against him, she could end up burned. She suddenly realised that her father was a King, and the power he held was enormous, going against him was risky and dangerous. But she loved him, and this was for his own good. She would go to Hatfield and she would write to Chapuys. Together they would not give up.

* * *

 **Let me hear it!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Think this will be a chapter you guys have been waiting for.**

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 _"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Anne surveyed herself in the mirror, not knowing what to think. She was beautiful in the dress that would double as both her coronation gown and her wedding dress. It was made in ivory silk and beautifully embroidered by the ladies from the lower town. It had golden flowers and intricate designs sewn so subtly that you could hardly make them out. Yet in the light, it almost sparkled. Her hair had been washed with a lavender soap that gave off a lovely fragrance, and had been let it down, and each strand had been perfectly curled by Nan. Eleanor's veil had carefully been clasped to her hair, it fitted like a cap with lace hanging onto her forehead and around her cheeks, leaving her face bare. The rest fell back in a wave of lace and gems that shone.

'You're beautiful, Anne' Nan said calling her by her name for once and forgoing formality.

'When I return back here I will be Queen,' Anne said almost in shock almost to herself.

'Yes,' Nan confirmed solemnly.

'I never dreamed of this, I never dreamed of royalty, I never wanted it,' Anne replied.

'Then you will be a perfect Queen,' Nan replied, 'Humble and honest and kind to those under you. Yet with a strength and intelligence that will inspire people.'

Anne turned around in shock to look upon her lady in waiting, who had served her faithfully. She was looking at Anne with a respect she had never seen before. And with a confidence that Anne did not even feel herself. She watched as Nan sank into a deep curtsey and lowered her head demurely.

'Your majesty,' she whispered.

'I will try and be a good Queen Nan,' Anne replied and stepped forwards and took her hands to bid her rise.

'All you can do is try,' Nan replied.

'Can I be alone, just for a few minutes?' Anne asked.

'Of course,' Nan replied, and left the room.

Anne turned back to the mirror. She would be England's new Queen, but she would be a wife at the same time. She had been taught how to be a good wife to a man. But never had she been taught how to be a Queen. Her family was ambitious but even her father had never dreamt this big. She had gotten here on her own, through loving Henry. She loved him so much, and the unborn child that lay in her stomach; a product of their love. She was scared however, the attack from Lady Mary had shattered her confidence somewhat.

She was changing things, changing England. She had made no decisions for Henry, she knew that, he was his own man. But she couldn't deny that she had put the books of Martin Luther and William Tyndale under his nose and encouraged him to read them. She had expressed her concerns about Catholicism and its corruptness. She had opened his eyes, and she was now unsure if it had been a good thing. Before England had been, well, not at peace but seemingly content. However the new monarchy of Henry's father left people in a state of unrest and fear over civil war. The people would resent her if it happened again. She didn't condemn Catholics, she knew of many kind and just ones, but neither did she think that it was right for England. Henry was such a strong willed man, he was powerful and magnificent and bowed to no man. When the Pope started to control his actions, he had unknowingly sewn his own downfall, and that of Catholicism in England.

The common people were grateful for the true religion, and relished the chance to read God's word in a language they understood. Anne firmly believed that people had a right to believe whatever they wanted to believe. Debate was good, arguments were bad, and it was through education and word of mouth and evidence that the people would embrace the new religion. And it was working, there were rumour of riots but Henry had soothed her fears claiming exaggeration. There was no longer such a wide divide between the poor and the rich, the poor could now discuss Christ's word and debate their own interpretations rather than being forced to accept whatever Latin speaking bishop decided to tell them. They were on an equal level, perhaps not in wealth but in knowledge they were now equal. And for Anne that was a success.

She had no doubt however, that there were people that were opposed to her, most were silent and wary of her, but there were some, she thought who would not rest until she was removed from the King's side. The Lady Mary for example, and her Spanish supporters, Chapuys, Katherine, Charles, and even Thomas More and several of the cardinals and bishops who disliked having their pomp and circumstance taken away from them. Seeing the hatred and the violence upon the face of a young girl at only fourteen, worried her what anyone with more power could do. For now they would bide their time, but if word got out that she was pregnant, then she was not so sure what would happen. She did not know who to fear and who to trust.

She closed her eyes and forced herself to be calm. She would trust in Henry and in their love. This was a day of joy not of fear. She was marrying the love of her life and together they would have a family. Assessing her pale pace she dabbed her fingers into some rouge and applied it to her cheeks. She lined a bristled brush with oil and used it to define her lashes, and onto her lips she rubbed a lighter coloured rouge. The affect was subtle but hid her pale complexion and worry.

'My lady?' Nan re-entered the room.

'I am ready,' Anne said smiling and holding her head high.

'The King awaits you,' Nan replied.

Leaving her rooms, she entered the corridors of Whitehall where all of her ladies were waiting, when she got back she would have to select more, as Nan and Madge were not enough for the entourage a Queen was expected to have. She disliked sharing her privacy with people she did not know or trust. But she knew that privacy was often rare when being a royal. She knew that Henry was followed constantly, with a man with him at all times to ensure his safety. In the privacy of his or her bedchamber though, they would be alone. Anne smiled to think that they would probably spend a lot of time there together. To be with each other, and to get away from the prying eyes of the court.

Her brother met her in the courtyard and he bowed to her with a smile on his face. They had been distant since Henry had attacked their father. But he had come around and had taken to teasing and joking with his younger sister with joy as she was used to. Anne was happy, she did not want to lose anymore of her family. Mary was standing next to George and smiled and waved upon seeing her, she would travel to Westminster Hall together with their brother. Her husband William Stafford had recently died of the sweat in his country estate, and Mary had been allowed by their father to come back to court for Anne's coronation and Wedding. Anne hoped she would stay and not retreat to Hever where she often hid from court. Anne knew Mary did not like the whispers about her or the names people called her, and hoped that her influence as Queen would help stop this. She wanted her sister with her throughout her pregnancy. Their father should have been there, but his absence was under the instruction of Henry who would not risk Anne's health.

Anne gasped upon seeing the open top carriage before her, it had been decorated with golden ribbons and was beautifully made in the best wood and was lined with the finest of satin in silver and gold. Pulling the coach was four beautiful white horses that stood proudly as if they were royalty. Ribbons trailed onto the ground behind it and would drag on the floor as it moved.

Henry appeared from round the back of the carriage, and Anne gasped upon seeing him, he was dressed in silvers and golds to match Anne's dress. Unlike the material of Anne's dress however, she could plainly see the quality was of the best money could buy. His collar was lined with ermine fur, and upon his head was the crown he only wore for state affairs, but Anne gasped at its splendour. It was pure gold littered with rubies sapphires and diamonds, the rim coated in alternating fleur di lis, and crosses pattees.

Anne had always known Henry was royalty of course, but never before had she seen such a display from him. When he was with her he was just Henry, usually clad in fine clothes but nothing of this magnificence. He was every inch the King and Anne was in awe at him.

Demurely lowering her eyes Anne swept into and deep curtsey.

'Your majesty.'

Henry had never seen anyone so beautiful before. Anne was stunning on an everyday basis but the picture of beauty before him now astounded him. The dress was pretty and subtle and he was very proud that she was wearing the people's dress. It was a statement that Anne would be a Queen for the common people too. The veil that she wore was unlike any he had ever seen, it clung too and framed her face in fine lace and then fell back over her head in lace and silk so fine and strung with pears and tiny gems that it made it look as if it was woven into her hair, which hung simply in beautiful long curls that decorated the side of her dress and fell to her waist. She was a contrast of light and dark and Henry was nearly brought to tears as the honour he felt, that this girl loved him. Stepping forward he gently lifted her up upright and gazed into her blue eyes he so loved.

'You look beautiful,' Henry whispered too her, and gently kissed her cheek careful not to nudge her attire.

'And you are mesmerising,' Anne replied reaching a hand out to run down the side of his cheek.

He nodded to the courtiers who would be travelling behind them and gently took Anne's arm to escort her into the carriage. Guards on horseback lined up on the sides of the carriage including Antony who Anne waved too, and he smiled back bowing his head respectfully.

The carriage set off the distance to Westminster Hall, and Anne was shocked to see all the people in the streets. As they drove past rice was thrown and her name was called. People were cheering and waving and the noise overwhelmed her as she smiled and waved back blowing kisses to familiar faces. Henry was happy to let her have all the spotlight, this was her day, and the people loved her. He couldn't have been prouder or more content to simply hold her spare hand and watch her smile, with pure joy on her face. He couldn't wait to marry her. She would be his. He would be the envy of the world.

* * *

William Brereton watched the parade from his place in an abandoned townhouse and surveyed his surroundings. There were more people here than he had expected. Chapuys had assured him that hardly anyone would be there to welcome the harlot. Brereton was doing God's work, the Pope had chosen him to defend England from evil and to save his King. He couldn't believe that he had been chosen as an 'Angel of God' Chapuys had called him. England was suffering, the King was suffering, dark magic was in the air and it was oozing into the people now. He so far had been protected from the plague, and he needed to use this chance to rid the world of Satan's servant; that wretched Anne Boleyn. He felt pity for the poor people who were calling her name, they were unknowingly bewitched, but with her death, hopefully they would be freed, and with God's help, England could be saved and the rightful Queen and religion restored to England.

Brereton was no soldier, merely a King's Valet, but he had stolen a musket and had figured out how to operate it. Shooting the whore from this distance however was going to be difficult. But with God on his side he knew his aim would be true. Setting up the stand he loaded the rifle with gunpowder and spiked the bullet down into its barrel. He rested the barrel on the stand and looked down the length of the musket to the street below. The timing would have to be perfect, he would need the right gap in the crowd, and she would have to be at the right angle.

He waited with baited breath as the cheering got louder and the people began to push forward straining to get a glimpse of their soon to be Queen. Brereton slowed his breathing and focused determined not to let his anger get the best of him and distract him. He could hear the horses neighing and the faint creaks of the wheels of the carriages approaching, they were getting closer.

'Lady Anne!'

'Lady Anne we love you!'

'God bless Anne Boleyn!'

Their call's and cheering were sickening and he fought not to turn away in disgust, instead focussing upon his task. The carriage was coming up the road, he could see it. They were getting closer. Quickly he took aim, and spied the harlot dressed in lace and gold, waving and smiling from her seat in the carriage. He was going to shoot, it was time, there was a gap in the crowd, and he could see her, a clean shot. His finger was on the trigger.

Suddenly the King turned her head towards him and put a hand to the back of her head, and pulled her forwards into his arms, and kissed her, effectively shielding her, from Brereton's view.

'NO!' he shouted and raged, but no one could hear him.

He watched in vain as the harlot's carriage drove on. He had failed, he had failed the Pope and God. He would not despair just yet however, he pulled himself together and resigned himself that the task was a difficult one, and he would have to come up with a new strategy. As the King's Valet he would be close to her, especially when she lay with the King in the King's chambers. He would have ample opportunity to be rid of her then. He simply needed to bide his time.

* * *

Anne was shocked when Henry turned her face towards him and cupped her head to kiss her soundly in front of the public. It was very shocking public display of affection, but rather than be horrified the people cheered all the more louder. Delighted at seeing the future monarchy so happy.

'Henry!' Anne laughed and pulled away.

'I can't help it, you're just so beautiful!' Henry smiled back.

Anne laughed and cupped his cheek and gazed into the eyes of the man she loved. She did not know that human beings were capable of this much affection. But the emotion she felt for this man, was enormous and glorious, and she couldn't help but laugh merrily, in pure joy.

The carriage rounded the street and descended onto Westminster Hall and Anne almost froze as she stared at the grand place. So many British monarchs had been crowned here, and she would be added to its history. She felt her eyes well up but forced the tears back own, not wanting to ruin her face for her marriage and coronation.

Henry helped her down from the carriage and together they proceeded into the Hall where the courtiers were waiting. The higher classes were in the front seats and lined the sides of the Hall. Whereas the commoners where in rows and were seated further back.

Henry bowed to Anne, and to thunderous applause he took her hand and escorted her down the main hall to the altar were Cranmer stood with his bible. Behind him was two thrones where Anne would soon be crowned.

It was finally happening, after five long gruelling years, of effort and sadness and separation they were finally going to be married. They could be together openly, and honestly, together they would lead England into a golden age, Anne felt it in her heart. All this effort and pain could not have been for nothing. The child in her stomach, would solidify Henry's rule, and England would be magnificent.

Henry barely heard Cranmer speak too spellbound by Anne next to him. It was happening, it was actually happening, Katherine was gone and Anne was his, they were stood in front of Cranmer about to exchange their vows. Vows he would hold dear to his heart, and not take for granted. He would be faithful, he would love and cherish her, through the bad times and the good, and he would love this woman until death took him. He knew it was his turn to speak and the words spilled out easily whilst still gazing into his love's eyes.

Anne repeated the words with a smile on her face;

'I, Anne, take thee to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part, and thereto I plight thee my troth,' Anne spoke clearly and for all to hear.

Traditional vows Anne had always thought were very plain and boring, speaking nothing of love and everything Henry and Anne believed in. Acting on spur of the moment before Cranmer could continue, she added to her vows.

'Henry I love you with all my heart, I will love you until my dying breath, and maybe even beyond that, for the love I have for you is so great, I feel that no force on this earth can remove it. I promise I will be faithful and dutiful, and to make you as happy as you make me.'

Henry stared at Anne in shock, she had gone off script and added to the traditional wedding vows that all men and women made to each other. She had done so both elegantly and confidently and for all to hear. She was proclaiming her love to the world, and her faith in him and their marriage. Never had someone done such a thing for him before. She had opened her heart for the whole of England to hear, and if she ever went back on them, they would be her judge. He was in awe of her.

'I now pronounce you man and wife,' Cranmer announced after a long pause.

The hall erupted into cheers and Henry swept down and framed Anne's face and moulded his lips to hers. He couldn't stop himself from pulling her closer and kissing her with passion, mindless of the audience they had. Her words had moved him like no other.

Eventually he pulled back and stared into Anne's eyes.

'I love you,' Henry said simply and Anne smiled in reply.

Taking her hand he helped Anne up onto the altar where her new throne now sat and Cranmer stepped aside bowing low as they passed. Henry gently helped her to sit and was about to take his own throne and allow Cranmer to pronounce Anne queen, when he decided to return Anne's declaration and instead turned to the pillow upon which laid Anne's crown that he had commissioned for her.

He had described it himself to Master Holbein, confident in what he wanted and what Anne would like. It was small and dainty in a dark gold, the metal was moulded close together to give it an ancient intricate look. The gold was complexly knotted into spirals and lines that could hardly be followed and littered on it were purple stones, the colour of royalty. Tiny diamonds were also attached and when in the light made the crown sparkle. He had designed it specifically because he wanted the whole world to know that Anne was his queen, the purple would show everyone that this was his Queen and he would stand by his Queen, that she had his full support. He turned to address the hall.

'Today, this beautiful lady has agreed to be my wife and Queen, her love has touched a place inside me no one has ever reached. Her honesty, her intelligence, and her kindness have moved my soul, and I know that she will be a Queen that England and myself will love and cherish.' Henry turned and smiled to at Anne and gently reached forward to remove the veil from the top of her head and draped it instead down her back.

He turned back and lifted the crown he had made for her and lifted it at arm's length before turning and placing it upon Anne's head, who was solemnly straight faced and dignified. He stood back and allowed the people to gaze upon their Queen before he turned back and sat upon his throne, turning to Cranmer who then presented her with the orb and sceptre to hold whilst she recited vows.

'Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of this Kingdom of England, and the dominions thereto belonging, according to the statutes in Parliament agreed on, and the laws and customs of the same?' Cranmer asked. The vow had been changed, and he and Henry had gone through the vow acknowledging the new reformed religion.

'I solemnly promise so to do,' Anne replied in a clear voice.

'Will you to your power cause law and justice in mercy to be executed in all your judgements?'

'I will.'

'Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the laws of God, the true profession of the gospel and the Protestant reformed religion established by law, and will you preserve unto the bishops and clergy of this Realm, and to the churches committed to their charge, all such rights and privileges as by law do or shall appertain unto them, or any of them?'

'All this I promise to do.' Anne finished and with a final breath recited the final line that would make her Queen.

'The things which I have here before promised, I will perform and keep: So help me God,' Anne finished and let out a deep breath that she was holding, fully feeling the weight of the orb and sceptre she was holding.

'By the power invested in me, I now pronounce thee Anne Regina Queen of England!' Cranmer announced the hall.

The people erupted from their seats to furious applause and cheering, and Anne stood solemnly orb and spectre clasped tightly before her and walked toward the edge of the altar as she had been instructed to and acknowledged the crowd. After minutes of this Cranmer finally took away the orb and sceptre and Henry stepped forwards to take her arm and with the other waved towards the crowd of people.

Together they proceeded down the entrance of Whitehall to bowing people and Anne suddenly realised they were bowing and curtseying to her. She was royalty, she was the Queen of England, and the child she carried would be the future King or Queen. She stopped and held a hand to her head as reality washed over her.

'My love?' Henry asked anxious if the stress was too much for her.

'I am Queen,' Anne whispered almost to herself.

Henry laughed and swept into a graceful deep bow.

'Your majesty,' He acknowledged with humour and gestured for her to proceed him.

Laughing she took his arm and exited the hall to climb back into the carriage that would take them back to Whitehall. Anne was still in a state of shock, she had power, real power for once in her life. For the first time she was beholden to no one, her father had no power over her, neither did her uncle. She was higher than them, she was higher than everyone but Henry. No longer would she be manipulated, no longer would she obey and simper and do as her family requested. For the first time she could make a difference in her lives and the lives of others. She would not abuse the power, she would be humble but intelligent but she would allow no one to ever control her again.

* * *

 **I know the vows used here weren't created until like 1678, but I thought they would really set the tone for this chapter and of the change that is happening to England and to Anne.**

 **Well there you go, Anne is Queen and now things will really start kicking off!**

 **Please review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Sorry for the wait guys, I had to move house and I had no Internet for days! So frustrating!**

* * *

 _"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

'She is Queen,' Mary stated.

Whitehall was eerily quiet, with all the servants and courtiers away at the ceremony. Her father had not asked her to attend. She had been confined to her room, to await Henry's decision in what to do with her. Chapuys was with her and sat at her table as she paced in front of him.

'Yes,' he confirmed.

'I thought you had this under control,' Mary stated annoyed.

'I thought so too, but my man had a problem in carrying out God's will,' he replied. He had heard from Brereton that he had failed, that the King had gotten in the way of his shot.

'Well then he didn't try hard enough, for it is God's will that the whore die!' Mary shouted at him tears of frustration falling down her face.

'You should not have attacked her, the King will be more wary of you now, you must gain his favour and trust, not his displeasure,' Chapuys insisted.

'I couldn't help it!' Mary replied.

'Well you ought to, I don't believe such a lady as Queen Katherine raised you to behave so,' Chapuys replied.

'My mother is gone! Banished to Wales!' Mary replied.

'And we must act for her!' Chapuys replied, 'but not with violence and rage, that will come, for now we must be clever and we must be patient.'

'We don't have time for it! Mary insisted.

'Why?'

'She's pregnant!' Mary yelled.

Chapuys stared at the Princess in shock. So the whore had spread her legs before marriage. This greatly complicated things, if the witch had a son, then Mary's place on the throne would be lost. He could not kill or sanction the killing of an innocent child. He could pray for a girl, and hope the King would restore Mary to the line of succession, or he could pray that the child died at birth and takes the mother with it. It was too big of a risk to risk all on Anne having a girl or dying.

'That witch is carrying Satan's spawn and if it lives it will ruin this country!' Mary raged.

'It cannot come to birth,' Chapuys replied.

'You would kill a child?' Mary asked quietly now, staring at her advisor and friend in shock.

'I would kill _her_ ,' Chapuys corrected.

'Before she births it,' Mary whispered, realising his intention.

'I will not confirm or deny your suspicions, the less you know the better,' Chapuys replied.

Mary sighed and sat at her table in front of her advisor. She was lucky she had such a friend in this court. Since her mother had left she had no friends left. Mendoza was due to be executed and anyone who was sympathetic to her cause was too scared to speak up. The people were flocking to the whore's magic, and were allowing heresy to take over their lives. When had everything gone so wrong?

'I want to see my mother,' Mary whispered.

'You know the King will not allow that,' Chapuys said.

'Could you take a letter to her for me?' Mary asked.

'I could try, but if found out, it could detrimental, 'Chapuys replied.

'She is my only friend in this world, I need her comfort and guidance,' Mary said.

'Very well,' Chapuys said.

Mary smiled and quickly got up to her writing desk to send her mother a letter. Her mother would want to know what was happening in her country. Mary still believed that her mother was the rightful Queen and ruler and had every right to know what was happening. She would leave nothing out.

* * *

Anne walked steadily with dignified poise through the court to Henry's presence chamber, her entourage following swiftly behind. She was followed everywhere she went now that she was Queen. She had kept her two favourite ladies on; Nan and Madge, but had hired several others as was required in her new position as Queen. Indeed she had many new clothes and her appearance took longer to ready than before, she had more duties to attend to and her rooms had been moved to the royal suite near to Henry's and required more servants to tend to it.

'Your majesty,' the courtiers murmured respectively bowing and curtseying before her and she acknowledged them with a small smile and a nod of her head.

'Her majesty the Queen!' an announcer heralded her.

She still couldn't quite believe that was her title. _Queen_ of England, Ireland and France. Wife of his majesty, Henry the eighth. It was very grand and it awed her how high she had risen. And knew that she owed everything to her dearest husband.

The doors to Henry's presence chamber opened and Henry turned to survey his new wife. She looked stunning in a purple velvet dress he had ordered for her. Purple suited her very well, and he was determined to have her in the colour often to cement the fact that she was royalty. He would have no one forget that Anne was Queen. Her hair was pinned back and curled and a new tiara was placed on her head. Although the Queen of England's jewels were available to her now, she chose to wear new pieces that Holbein had designed for her. Katherine had worn the previous pieces often and they were very dark and serious for Anne's taste although beautiful. She was glad that she could add to the collection, that perhaps her future daughter would own one day.

'Sweet heart!' Henry exclaimed bounding away from the council members that surrounded his grand table.

He swept towards her and laughed when Anne fell into a deep curtsey. He was awed that she still showed him such respect now that she was Queen, Katherine hadn't. He grasped her hand and kissed it lovingly gazing into her blue orbs that stared in his own.

'You sent for me my love?' Anne asked.

'Yes,' Henry laughed again, happiness emanating from his body. He took her hand and clasped it in his and led her over the table.

Anne watched as Henry's councilmen bowed before her. Her uncle included. Anthony was present who she smiled at her, as was her brother and Cromwell, and unfortunately Thomas Wyatt who had been given patronage by Cromwell, and a few others that Anne knew held high positions in Henry's court. These were the people that could either help her of hinder her. They could whisper in her husband's ear, lie about her or sing her praises. She was not afraid though, she knew Henry loved and trusted her, and she was carrying their child. He would allow no harm to come to her.

'Gentlemen,' Anne nodded to them.

'Norfolk was just pointing out to me your lack of heritage and titles,' Henry said.

'Your majesty?' Anne asked confused. She may not have been noble before marriage but she was Queen now, how many titles did she need, when she had the one that mattered?

'I know what you are thinking my love and I agree with you, but our future children deserve inheritance do they not?' Henry smiled.

Anne saw his point now, her pregnancy was still a secret that no one knew about, except Linacre and Mary, but if they had many children, especially girls, they would need titles to inherit and dowry's to entice others to marry them.

'I see,' Anne replied.

'I am making you a Marquise, Marquise of Pembroke, with lands worth one thousand pounds per annum,' Henry replied.

Anne stared at him in shock.

'Also Wolsey's old palace at York palace, I'm having it altered and refurbished for you,' Henry said.

'For me?' Anne asked confused.

'You said you liked it,' Henry said, 'I am giving it to you, to use as you wish.'

'Henry,' Anne whispered in shock mindful of the audience.

Not caring who was watching Anne ran forwards and threw herself into his arms which caught her easily and she rejoiced in his laughter as he spun her around.

'Tonight we are having a feast to celebrate our marriage,' Henry told her. Anne already new of the plans, it had only been two weeks since her coronation and marriage and they deserved to finally be able to celebrate. They would also finally announce Anne's pregnancy.

It would appear very quick to the people, but Anne was now almost 3 months pregnant and although she concealed it well, if they wanted to give the illusion of everything have being done properly then they would have to announce it soon. Medical knowledge was so disputed and argued about that no one would question it. And when Anne gave birth they would claim the baby was simply early. It was fool proof.

'I am so excited,' Anne replied.

'You know I had to invite everyone,' Henry warned her.

Anne sighed, all the most eligible lords and dukes had to attend her and acknowledge her as Queen and present the couple with gifts. This included Brandon and her Father. Everyone in the Kingdom would have to be informed of her pregnancy. She was very worried about Brandon. But she knew how the King loved him, and was worried that he would worm his way back into his good graces. However as long as he kept his opinions to himself, Anne would forgive him, she loved her husband, and only wanted him happy. Henry had so few true friends, and if having Brandon back made him happy then Anne would smile and bear it.

Her father she was apprehensive about, the last time she had seen him he had struck her. She was Queen now, she answered to no one but her husband and God. He would not dare act against her, or seek to manipulate her. He was her father and she loved him, but she was no longer his gullible little girl, her eyes were open to his faults and she would not forgive him easily.

'Yes I know,' Anne replied smiling.

'It will be fine,' Henry assured her.

Anne smiled and sought to change the subject and looked towards the men before her who were stood solemnly with their heads bowed.

'What are you discussing?' Anne asked walking towards the table.

Henry smiled, knowing that the men would be shocked she took an interest in state affairs. But Anne was clever, far cleverer than the old men stood before him, and would gladly hear her opinions on matters of state.

'Spain are making threats and cutting of trade towards us,' Henry gestured to the maps before her.

'Anything vital?' Anne asked.

'No just luxuries, cloth, silk, fragrance,' Henry replied.

'Nothing important then,' Anne smiled.

'Forgive me your majesty, but luxuries are important to keep the people happy, food and water is all well and good but people must be allowed some extravagance in their lives,' Sir Henry Norris voiced.

Norris was new to the council and in favour with the King for being a known reformer and idealist. However he seemed unsettling to Anne, she did not like the way he looked at her. It reminded her of the way Thomas used to look at her and she wished to avoid any such situations.

'Then get them from somewhere else,' Anne replied.

'These items are only available through Spain my Queen,' Norris replied, smirking at her.

'Then offer them something knew, something they haven't seen before,' Anne replied holding her head high and refusing to be quashed.

'Such as?' Norris asked.

'I hear Germany have luxurious furs unseen before in England and have new technologies that we don't, as reformers they are our natural allies, set up a trade agreement with them, and have their goods imported in. Out with the old and in with the new!'

Henry was in awe of her, she acknowledged the problem and solved it in an ingenious way that none of the men before him had thought of. He watched smugly as everyone gazed at her in awe and respect, he noticed Wyatt looking upon her with lust which annoyed him but was determined not to give any sign of annoyance or anger that he noticed. Instead he leaned forwards and kissed her forehead.

'My new Queen is far more intelligent than you gentlemen,' Henry laughed.

'I've known that all my life,' George laughed and Anne smiled back at him, glad his teasing nature was back and their relationship had resumed its closeness.

'And the religious houses and estates?' Cromwell asked changing the topic.

'What about them?' Henry asked.

'They are stealing from your majesties exchequer and they poison your people with lies, they should be burned down,' Cranmer said vehemently.

Anne frowned. She had no love for Catholicism, but these buildings were valued in communities where they had nothing else. They were beautiful and although corrupt offered hope to many who had none.

'I agree that certain Abbeys should be reformed but burning them?' Henry asked.

'We should send a clear message that veneration of priests and superstition and the corrupt ways of the catholic church will not be tolerated,' Cromwell replied passion in his eyes.

Some people were nodding in agreement and Henry was inclined to agree, but remembering his dream from his time with Anne at Hever, Henry hesitated to give his agreement. He turned to Anne whose lips were pursed and was not speaking. He wanted her opinion.

'Anne?' Henry asked, ignoring the annoyed glances sent his way of him asking a woman her opinion.

'I think that if you take away some people's only sense of pride and community spirit you will only encourage more unrest in this Kingdom. This reformation should happen slowly, and we should not show people the same violence and evil that has been shown before them. We should do better, strive to be better. Violence will only encourage violence,' Anne replied.

Cromwell glared at her now, 'And how will you cement his majesty's reformation in England without taking down the very symbolism it stands for?' Cromwell asked spitefully and without respect.

'Simple, we change the symbol,' Anne replied holding her head high.

'What do you mean?' Cromwell asked.

'We change the buildings purpose, instead of them taking money from people and violating its purpose we should reinvest that money that would go to his majesties exchequer, and show the people we care, and give the buildings a new purpose. Turn them into schools, turn them into community centres, hospitals, orphanages. Let us show England that these buildings can be put to better uses, it is through education and kindness that will bring forth this reformation,' Anne replied.

'And how will the new faith be welcomed in?' Cromwell replied, thinking that changing the purpose of the buildings would do nothing but shift the focus away from the true religion, where the focus should be.

'Build new modest churches, with English written bibles with reformist priests, allowing anyone to come and worship and find their own meaning through God, the Catholics keep their sacred buildings and we simple give them a new purpose,' Anne replied.

'Brilliant,' Henry replied.

'Your majesty I must protest,' Cromwell replied, 'Lady Anne is a woman, and although well-educated can know nothing of these matters.'

' _Lady_ Anne?' Anne questioned harshly and stepped forwards.

'You would do well to remember who you are speaking to Cromwell,' Anne spat glaring at him or not using her proper title or speaking to her with respect.

Eerie quiet fell over the room as the other councilmen looked at Cromwell with shock for forgetting Anne's new title and the reverence it deserved.

Henry stepped up behind Anne and laid a hand on her shoulder in support, showing all whose side he would always be on. Quietly he was furious with Cromwell but he would let Anne prove to everyone here that she was not to be meddled with.

Cromwell sank to one knee with his head bowed in forgiveness.

'Forgive me my Queen,' Cromwell uttered, eyes downcast.

Anne stared at him for a long time, she had believed this man was a family friend, indeed they both believed in the true religion. Cromwell however, seemed to take it to the next level, she could see the passion and obsession in his eyes which wasn't healthy. She wouldn't let him get away with it, she would make a point in front of all these men that she was not to be trifled with or spoken over, she was the Queen of England now and she would prove to all men that she was just as smart and capable as any man.

Ignoring Cromwell who stayed put on bended knee Anne turned towards Henry and smiled and leant forwards and kissed his cheek, loving his gaze of pride that was directed at her.

'I will get ready for tonight,' Anne told him stepping into his arms, loving the way they folded round her.

'I am sure you will very beautiful,' Henry said and lovingly brushed his lips against hers.

Anne turned towards the councilmen before her and saw the way they were looking at her, Wyatt in particular was gazing at her with something close to obsession. The rest were respectful but slightly sceptical and wary of her new power as they glanced towards Cromwell who was still on bent knee.

'I bid you good day gentlemen,' Anne said.

'Your majesty,' they all murmured and sank into low bows.

Ignoring Cromwell again, Anne blew a kiss to her new husband and swept from the room, her ladies behind her.

Henry surveyed the men before him as Anne left. Cromwell was still on bent knee and Henry was going to keep him there, the humiliation would do him well, no one talked to his Queen that way.

'Well gentlemen,' Henry said stepping forwards around Cromwell and surveying everyone and gesturing to the papers before him. 'I think her majesty has some very good ideas, I say we implement them, all in favour?'

Everyone immediately agreed and the new plans were signed and put into motion. Henry knew that taking a woman's advice could make him seem weak, but he would ignore the strange looks and whispers. His wife was clever, and cunning, he had no quarrels about making full use of her ideas. Whether he agreed with them or not, he appreciated her intelligence and would show the world that they were a partnership. The combination of Anne's intelligence and his power and presence would make for a lasting impression he was sure.

'Well gentlemen I trust to see you all at the feast tonight!' Henry exclaimed and smiled as the men looked back at him with excitement and anticipation. Henry always put on a good spread and good celebrations. They were always eventful and exciting.

* * *

Cromwell by this point had been in his position for hours and his knees were starting to hurt. He kept his pose however knowing that if he fell or rose, his punishment would be all the more severe. The men left but Henry remained behind and walked up to where Cromwell was knelt on bended knee, he towered over him but said nothing staring down his nose at the man who had dared disrespect his Queen.

'You must be careful Cromwell,' Henry said coolly.

'Yes your majesty,' Cromwell replied eyes downcast.

'This Kingdom is going through a great deal of change, change that I welcome, I won't see it threatened by anyone,' Henry replied.

'Forgive me,' Cromwell murmured.

'I shall, when my wife does,' Henry replied.

Cromwell gulped and nodded.

'But know that if you ever disrespect her like that again, it won't just be your position you'll lose.' Henry said and watched as his face drained of colour.

'Yes your majesty,' Cromwell murmured.

Henry sniffed and turned on his heel beckoning to his entourage to follow him, he had a feast to prepare for and an announcement to ready. He was so excited, finally he could tell the whole Kingdom that he was expecting an heir at last. No longer would he have to envy Francis or Charles or any other monarch their families when he would have his own. He now realised it wasn't so much the son he craved, but the sense of family and love that he had so little of as a child. With Katherine and Mary it hadn't been like that. He had hardly seen Mary, and when he did, it was briefly. Katherine kept to herself and did not want to spend any quality time with him. It had not been a family.

He wouldn't deny that he wanted a son, of course he did, and it would make things a lot easier on him and on Anne. But what he craved was love, and the joy a loving family could bring. He wanted the whole world to know that his beautiful wife had given him his every desire. He would be the envy of the world. And if he had a girl, he would not make the same mistakes he had with Mary, he would love her fiercely and proudly and keep her close and loved. He would not allow the world to think that he was disappointed. Any child of him and Anne would be welcome.

* * *

Anne surveyed herself in the mirror, her hair for a change had been twisted and pinned up to her head with loose tendrils framing her face. She dad doused her cheeks and lips with rouge and applied oil to her lashes and kohl to the under of her eyes. This was a celebration and she wanted to look the part. Onto her head was placed a shining tiara made out of precious blue gems and sparkling clusters of pearls. She had forgone her stays and corset, not wanting to constrict the baby, and had instead donned a gold shimmering dress that folded like a robe. It was of her own design and very unlike anything else any woman would be wearing.

As Queen she wanted to be the centre of women's fashion, and she loved to draw and design her own dresses. It was intricately embroidered with a gold and silver thread in a pattern of flowers. The sleeves were long in the Tudor fashion and the collar was low where it folded over on itself, revealing a hint of her bosom. She would not be a restricted solemn Queen like Katherine. She would show England that she had personality and charm and that to be beautiful and desirable was not a sin. Life was beautiful, and she would show her love for it, with colour and a smile, not darkness and a dour expression.

Around her neck she clasped her 'B' necklace, it was one of her favourite pieces, and Henry had secretly stolen it and added to it by replacing the pearls with diamonds and a finer chain. It was a lovely gesture and was appreciated. It showed that she recognised her roots, but that she had welcomed her new station and role in life. Happy with her appearance she turned to face her ladies, the newest of which curtsied.

Madge and Nan however crowded forwards and exclaimed over her, fawning and exclaiming over her beauty. Anne laughed and shushed them and assured her ladies that she was only half this beautiful because of their care and talent. Anne knew that the masses would wonder at her choice of clothing and her lack of a more fitting style, but all would be revealed tonight.

Anne descended the stairs from her apartments and met Henry before the courtroom, where laughter and music could be heard from inside. Henry smiled as he took in his new wife's appearance, her fitting revealing gowns had been replaced with some sort of robed dress that was beautifully embroidered and seemed to sparkle in the firelight. It was simple, in a new style that he appreciated. He loved that Anne had a taste for fashion and was not a conformist to traditional English styles. Indeed as a married woman her hair should have been covered but Anne's had been arranged it prettily in an up do with a dainty tiara placed on the top of her head, with pretty unobservant stones that glinted and shined faintly. She was the picture of a beautiful Queen.

'Anne!' Henry exclaimed stepping forwards and seizing her hand and bestowing a kiss upon it, 'You are most beautiful.'

'Are you sure I am appropriate?' Anne gestured to her robe feeling slightly worried.

'You are stunning,' Henry assured her.

'I heard from a midwife that tight clothing can damage the baby,' Anne replied.

'You are beautiful my love,' Henry stepped forwards and whispered in her ear, 'even more so without nothing on.'

Anne blushed and swatted at his arm before linking hers through it and standing tall and proud with a dignified expression and took a deep breath in.

'His majesty the King, and her majesty the Queen!' a servant shouted out and the doors were open to a fanfare.

The hall was lit beautifully with hanging chandeliers with long white candles. The tables were lined with the finest of foods and a huge section of the floor and been cleared specifically for dancing. A small orchestra were perched up above in the stalls, unnoticed but definitely heard. At the head table on a raised dais were Anne and Henry's thrones in the centre. On Henry's right was her Uncle the Duke of Norfolk, Anne still hadn't quite forgiven him for manipulating her, but on the other hand he had never struck her, or become obsessed with his progression, he was already one of the most important men in England, and one of Henry's most trusted Dukes, long before he had even met Anne.

George and Mary were seated next to Anne's throne and although George now bore the title Lord Rochford she was a little worried about her sister, who had no title and lived off a small family home in the north when she wasn't at court. She had stayed at Court because Anne had begged her, but Anne knew that Mary felt a little uncomfortable with the situation. Anne hoped she would meet a nice gentlemen who had some land and was situated closer to London. Until then she was one of Anne's ladies in waiting, and earned her own income.

Her father should have been up there but he was quite rightly hiding amongst the crowds. Anne knew he had to be here to pay his resects but sitting at the head table, with so much grief between them would have caused Anne anxiety, and over fear of her unborn child she had told George to tell her father that he should keep his distance. Anne glimpsed Sir Thomas More who had been sent back to his estate for secretly refusing to acknowledge Henry as head of the Church. But as a knight of the garter he also had to be here to acknowledge her formally. She didn't resent his presence, she knew Henry held him in high regard, and as long as he held his tongue and didn't burn anyone else, she would bear his presence.

Brandon and the Lady Mary also had to be part of the crowd somewhere, Brandon as a Duke had to be here, and although Anne feared that he would worm his way back into Henry's esteem, she would welcome him if it made her husband happy.

It was the lady Mary who really worried her. She was her husband's only child, and as such had a place on the head table, at the far end of Henry's side. Anne glimpsed her from where she was standing, she was dressed as if at a funeral and her eyes were downcast and her lips pursed in anger, as she heard Anne's new title called out.

Katherine thankfully was not to attend. It would not have been proper and Henry wanted nothing to do with her ever again. Anne was inclined to agree with him, but was worried what effect Katherine's absence was having on her daughter. She did not look happy.

Henry escorted Anne through the hall and she kept her gaze straight ahead as was proper as the people bowed and curtseyed before her as they walked to the head table. Once seated Henry threw up a hand and the music returned as everyone began to gather on the floor and reseat themselves at the tables that lined the hall. The announcement and the acknowledgment of gifts would come soon, but not before they were settled.

'Are you happy?' Henry asked.

'Of course,' Anne smiled and leaned over to grace her husband's cheek with a kiss.

'I still can't believe we are here, I never gave up, but sometimes it seemed like an impossible task,' Henry said.

'Love like ours will always persevere,' Anne replied.

'Of course. My lady perseverance,' Henry laughed and clasped her hand in his.

'Your Majesties,' a voice interrupted them.

Anne's stomach sank as she turned to face the smiling countenance of Thomas Wyatt. She was worried what he wanted and what he would say. He was a talented poet and therefore resided at court as one of Henry's most talented courtiers. Anne had mostly ignored his presence, not wanting to draw attention to their rumoured affair. He had not heard Anne's warning when she had told him to say nothing of her, in fact she rather thought he had spread malicious gossip and made their relationship to be more than it ever had been. In this court words could kill you. Apart from a few gentle kisses Anne had never slept with him. His obsession with her was rather unsettling and she felt Henry clasp her hand tightly.

'Mr Wyatt?' Henry acknowledged.

'I have a gift for your wedding, and celebration of the new Queen,' Wyatt said smirking at Anne.

'How very kind of you,' Henry replied.

Wyatt turned and beckoned to the crowd and a man strolled over. He had curly black hair and tanned skin. He was obviously not English, he was dressed vibrantly and had a charming smile, and a violin was clasped firmly in his hand.

'Allow me to introduce Mark Smeaton, dance and music master, and just arrived from France but originally from the Netherlands,' Wyatt announced.

Anne smiled at the man intrigued. Wyatt knew her well and knew that she appreciated talented individuals in the arts. She wanted the English court to be just as lavish as the French one, though a little less perverse. If this man could bring some talent to England than she would not stop Wyatt from acquiring such gentleman.

'Mr Smeaton,' Anne replied and held her hand out, as was proper, to which the mean bowed over it with a flourish and a charming smile.

'My Queen,' he nodded to Anne before bowing to the King, 'My King.'

'You play the violin?' Anne asked nodding to his instrument.

'Yes your majesty,' he replied. Anne knew that a violin master was rare to come by and was a difficult instrument. She had never tried one before, having only played the lute, virginals and the harp herself, but she would be interested to learn more.

'Play me something,' Anne instructed and then leaned back and looked to Henry, who smiled back at her.

Mark brought up his violin to his neck with a flourish and played very well and with great expression. His melody was sinful and dark almost like a Volta but much more sensual. Anne smiled with every note enthralled with his talent. He finished with a flourish and Anne burst to her feet and clapped along with every other courtier there.

'That was well done,' Henry acknowledged.

He was happy that this man would bring some liveness to his court, and was happy that Anne was pleased by his presence. He was concerned that he was a friend of Wyatt's but he seemed harmless, an ordinary commoner who had some talent at music and was trying to make his way in the world. He wondered at what Wyatt was playing at in presenting him to Anne, but thought nothing of it.

Anne was bouncing with excitement and excitedly bent to Henry's ear to request his permission for her to try the instrument. Unable to resist her smiling face he nodded.

'Will you show me?' Anne asked Smeaton and gestured to the violin.

Mark smiled in reply and Anne practically skipped round the table in excitement to bettering her knowledge of music. She loved to learn and was forever trying to better herself and here was an opportunity to do so. She carefully stood in front of the man avoiding touching him and placed her hands lightly upon his and the violin was placed on her shoulder. Mark started to play and Anne's fingers followed his movements. She saw the dexterity required to play and the accuracy of his fingering. She was very enthralled. When he finished she stepped back with a grin and turned to Henry who was smiling at her.

'Welcome to court, Mr Smeaton,' Henry announced smiling. Smeaton gave a flourished bow in reply and turned towards the dancing crowds. Wyatt nodded his head towards the royals and followed after his friend.

'Why do you think he did that?' Henry asked.

'Wyatt?' Anne questioned.

'Yes,' Henry replied.

'He likes to prove to me that he knows me, and knows what I want, he thinks by doing this I will give in to his advances,' Anne replied.

'I see,' Henry stated annoyed.

'He doesn't know me like you do Henry,' Anne said turning towards him.

'I could spend a lifetime learning you Anne,' Henry replied and kissed her softly.

The celebration continued on and many courtiers and nobles stepped up to present themselves to the Queen and give her gifts. Indeed Anne had never seen such a collection of wealth, gold and jewellery and tapestries unlike any she had ever seen.

Sir Thomas stepped up next and surveyed his King, who he had once looked upon like a son. He couldn't deny that he seemed very happy. He also couldn't deny that the people seemed generally content with his rule and accepting of heresy. Thomas couldn't condone it, nor would he accept that the church wasn't the physical representation of God on earth.

'Sir Thomas!' Henry exclaimed and stepped forwards to hug his old friend and mentor. Although they had parted on bad terms Henry still loved the man.

'Your majesties,' he replied bowing to both. If his bow was a little higher than was customary to Anne then they either didn't notice or did not reply.

'Sir Thomas,' Anne acknowledged but did not offer her hand.

'Allow me to present a small present as acknowledgment of your marriage and the new Queen,' Thomas said.

He produced from his small pocket a small box wrapped in silk and presented it to the Queen who received it and took to opening it. Anne opened the box and her smile froze on her face. In the box was a dainty necklace fashioned into a cross with Jesus Christ represented on it. It was plain and simple, and it was obvious that he was making a point by presenting it to her. He knew that she was a follower of the new religion and that she had been the one to introduce it to Henry. She knew that he also knew that she did not believe in superstition and the benevolence of the cross and the worshipping in front of it. By giving her this, he was accusing her of sin, of disregarding Christ. He was practically asking her to confess by providing her with the necklace. Anne snapped the box shut before Henry could see, and forced her smile to stay on her face.

'I thank you Sir Thomas,' Anne replied.

He nodded in reply inwardly rejoicing at her look of annoyance. He knew Henry would see inside the box soon enough, and would be mad, but it had already been taken away and placed with the other gifts. He turned to leave but was stopped by her next reply.

'I thank you for coming Sir Thomas and acknowledging me as your Queen, indeed God has seen it fit to place me by Henry's side. I wonder where he would place you.' She asked haughtily and watched as he turned back to face her, 'behind him perhaps, or maybe far below, as far down as down goes with the other murderers.'

Thomas felt anger flash through him as she taunted him. She was a clever, intelligent woman, and knew that the one thing Sir Thomas was sure of in his life was his place in the afterlife, and in heaven. She had implied that God would not grant him that place for his crimes against the heretics. He had not wanted to burn those men, but they did not repent and he had no choice. Biting his tongue he bowed and turned abruptly away, wanting to be home as soon as possible before he did something truly detrimental.

'Anne?' Henry questioned as he watched Thomas stride away.

'His gift was not appreciated,' Anne replied.

'I see.' Henry replied annoyed. Thomas just couldn't leave it alone, he had to have his say, and he could not just stay silent and take his opinions with him. He had been shocked by Anne's comments, but looking at her he knew the gift he had given her must have been very insulting for her to respond in such a way. He would not distress her any more by asking about it and instead beckoned the next courtier forwards.

Anne felt her heart pull in her chest as she watched her father walk forwards. His face was haggard and new lines were littered around his face. He looked old and tired. He was no longer the charming smart man he was reputed to be. Anne felt sorry for him, and was thankful his bruising had died down and there was no lasting damage from Henry's violence.

'Your grace,' Henry acknowledged.

Anne watched as her father bowed low his eyes still firmly downcast.

'Father,' Anne stated and watched as her father's eyes finally flew to her own.

Hearing her call him 'father' moved him. He had not been much of a father to her nor any of his children. He had loved them, but he had used them more, seeing the value they could bring him, more than the value they meant to him. It had taken the King almost killing him to realise that he had destroyed his family, and manipulated his favourite child. Anne looked beautiful and every inch the Queen. She had fulfilled everything he had asked of her and more, and along the way she had lost her heart to the King. Her obedience had shifted and he was no longer the most important man in her life. Indeed she no longer answered to anyone but the King and God, and he was so proud of her.

'My Queen,' he replied.

He presented his gift to Anne, and watched as she opened the small box and pulled out a dainty white christening gown that was glittered with pearls and made out of the finest of French silk. It was his wife's Elizabeth's and he had kept hold of it for his first grandchild. Although Anne had made no announcement he could see that she was pregnant. He knew his own daughter well and could see the telling signs. He was happy for her, his blood would rule over England one day and the thought was awe-inspiring. But above all he knew that this was his chance to start again.

'It was your mother's,' Thomas whispered.

Anne looked at her father with tears in her eyes, it was a beautiful and thoughtful gesture and she couldn't believe that she was holding the garment that once clothed her infant mother as she had been acknowledged by God. She stood and gently pulled her father into a hug and pulled back to kiss his cheek.

'Thank you,' she whispered.

He nodded in reply and moved away bowing.

'That was very thoughtful,' Henry said to a teary eyed Anne.

'Yes,' Anne replied brokenly.

'I think he is finally acknowledging his faults,' Henry replied.

'Yes, it's a shame it only took your fist for him to see his errors,' Anne half joked.

Henry leaned over and kissed her hair.

'The Duke of Suffolk,' a servant called out.

Anne and Henry watched as the hall went quiet and watched as Brandon, the King's long time best friend walked towards the royal pair. Everyone knew why he had been banished, and it had been a great shock that he had fallen out of favour with the King. He had long been considered his best friend.

His wife was the young Catherine Brook who had been a lady in waiting to Katherine, and Anne knew that she despised her and that she made no effort to disguise the fact. She walked forwards with her husband and stared rudely into Anne's eyes with a cold blank expression. Her curtsy was stilted and disrespectful but Anne was determined to rise above the bait and instead smiled brightly at the pair of them.

'My Lord Suffolk, welcome back,' Anne said.

'Brandon,' Henry acknowledged.

'Your majesty, may we offer you our sincere congratulations,' Brandon said to the both of them.

He could feel how tense Catherine was next to him, his wife was deeply catholic and devoted to her previous mistress. Her hatred of the Boleyn's was strong and Brandon had no love for the whore either. She had completely brainwashed Henry.

'Thank you Charles,' Henry replied straight faced. It was hard for him to remain so formal with his childhood friend.

Brandon brought forward his gift, a selection of silks and satins for Anne and a large golden goblet to add to Henry's already large collection. The gifts were impersonal, and designed to neither impress nor insult. They simply were ordinary. It was better that way. He wanted to give the new Queen a chest of horse dung but thought that he would definitely lose his head if he did.

Henry nodded in thanks and waved them back and they returned to the crowd.

'That was not so awful,' Anne replied.

'Maybe he has changed,' Henry whispered hopefully.

'Perhaps, but I think his wife will never let him,' Anne told him. She didn't believe Brandon wanted anything to do with her or her family, but knew that Henry loved the man and did not want to upset him more so therefore commented on his wife instead.

'Yes,' Henry agreed. He knew Brandon had his own opinions about Anne. But he also knew that Brandon had always wanted to see him happy, he never cared for politics or even religion really. He served Henry and was rewarded, but he had changed as he grew older, he cared more and he judged more and was never silent in his opinions.

'I think he is jealous of me,' Anne replied.

'Jealous?' Henry replied confused.

'Yes, you used to spend all your time with him, and he with you, then you fell in love with me and I took you away,' Anne replied.

'You make him sound like a jealous lover,' Henry scoffed.

'Maybe he _is_ in love with you,' Anne replied seriously.

'What?' Henry questioned astounded. He was well aware that some men sought out pleasure from other men but he knew that Brandon was a ladies man.

'Not in a sexual sense, but he is possessive, he smiles when you give him presents, and he is sad when he is sent away, although he admired Katherine he never liked her. He would always introduce you to women that you would see briefly and then return your attention to him,' Anne said and Henry stared at her in shock. 'I took you away from all he knew.'

Henry considered her words and whilst strange they did have a strange ring about them. When banished Brandon would send him letters of apology, when with Anne and in the beginning of his relationship with Katherine when he had considered himself to love her, he had been quick to point out her bad qualities, and move his attention to other desirable women. Airheads with nothing about them but an open sexuality that he could use and then finish with just as quickly. He spent all of his youth with Brandon.

'Perhaps,' Henry acknowledged her words. Lost in his thoughts he didn't hear Anne's request until she took his hand and squeezed it turning his attention back to her.

Mark Smeaton was in front of her with his hand out, asking her rather boldly to dance. Anne was practically bouncing with excitement to dance with the man and he knew why. It was not for any flirtatious or malicious reason. Smeaton was a dancing master and Anne was considered by all to be the best dancer to ever grace his court. Although he could dance well, he knew he could not match the pair, and would like to watch Anne dance as he used to from across the hall and admire her.

'Of course,' he smiled at her then leaned forwards, 'do not over exert yourself.'

Anne nodded and blushed at his worry for her and their unborn child. Rising from her seat she gracefully accepted Smeaton's hand and strolled onto the floor where the other couples made way for them. The musicians started a lively tune and the pair made a striking couple as they twirled around the dance floor. Every eye was on Anne, she looked absolutely radiant and Henry found himself utterly in awe at her.

'They make a fine pair,' a voice said behind his shoulder and he turned to see Brandon standing behind his throne.

'That they do,' Henry agreed.

'Are you not worried?' Brandon asked.

'Of what?' Henry asked.

'She seems to be enjoying herself with him, perhaps she will enjoy herself with him in other ways,' Brandon recklessly implied.

Henry rose from his seat and turned and pulled the lapels of Brandon's shirt towards him and glared at him.

'When will you learn that Anne is not the whore you make her out to be, she was a virgin Charles!' Henry exclaimed.

'So she claims,' Brandon scoffed.

'No, so her body proved after I took her,' Henry replied and watched in satisfaction at the look of shock that passed Brandon's face and the claim. 'Would you like to see the blood stains for yourself, or will my word alone satisfy you?'

'Forgive me,' Brandon murmured moving to step backwards but Henry clasped him tightly and drew him forwards.

'You are my brother, by marriage and through life, do not through away everything we were for bitterness and jealousy,' Henry stated.

'Jealous?' Brandon laughed, 'of _her?_ She is beautiful Henry, but even serpents can be beautiful before they strike you.'

'I wasn't talking of jealousy over her…' Henry trailed off and stared into Brandon's eyes.

Brandon stared back in shock. What was he implying? That he was jealous over their marriage? He wasn't, he had his own wife. Then what was he saying? He watched in annoyance as Henry turned his attention back to the dance floor and away from him and frowned as he watched the obsessive love filled gaze return to the whore. Suddenly he felt heat flare up his neck as he understood what the King had been implying.

Henry turned back around and saw the humiliation and embarrassment on Brandon's face and sighed. He wouldn't speak of it again and instead he turned and walked towards the floor watching as his wife finished her dance to furious applause. He stepped forwards and gently took her hand from the smiling form of Smeaton.

'Your Queen is everything she was reported to be,' Smeaton said 'Talented and beautiful, exactly what the French court told me.'

Henry laughed 'You are not wrong Mr. Smeaton.'

Anne escorted her back to her seat and watched as the other courtiers mulled around and exchanged words.

'He is a very good dancer,' Anne smiled.

'Yes, much better than me,' Henry pouted.

Anne smiled at his competitive nature and leaned forwards to kiss his cheek, 'I would rather dance with you and stare into your eyes than dance with Mark.'

Henry smiled at his wife's love for him and returned her kiss.

'Ready?' Henry asked gesturing to the crowd and she let out a deep breath before nodding.

Henry stood from his throne and signalled to a guard who brought a horn to his lips and blew out the royal fanfare. The entire room turned to survey the head table. The musicians stopped and the dancers disengaged to turn towards the King.

'Friends, tonight we celebrate my marriage to this wonderful woman who has become England's Queen,' Henry called out.

'Long live the Queen!' voices called out in appreciation.

'Indeed, she has made me the happiest of men, for I could not be prouder to announce that Queen Anne is pregnant with our child that will one day rule over this country.' Henry called out.

There was a long pause before a thunderous round of applause as the people jumped to their feet in excitement. Anne smiled and surveyed the genuine looks of joy and happiness amongst the people. Soon the word would spread to the lower town, and she would make sure to visit their and to tell the common people the news as well. She wanted all to know that she carried the King's heir, which was so long awaited by the people of England to secure the country and rid it of the worry of civil war. Henry's line would be strong and true.

Anne saw the few who were not celebrating however, Sir Thomas More looked sick and Brandon and his wife and the lady Mary were shocked and angry.

Mary of course already knew but had hoped that the announcement wouldn't have been so soon. She had wanted Chapuys to act before so as no one would know that the whore was pregnant when she was finally sent to hell.

'Please, raise your glass to the lady who has secured my line and heritage and who has faithfully given me her heart and soul,' Henry said staring lovingly at his beautiful wife, 'To Queen Anne!'

'To Queen Anne,' everyone toasted.

Congratulations flooded in including her brother and sister who embraced her and shared in her joy. Mary was so excited for her sister. She had been scared that eventually she would lose Henry's love, but knew that by giving him a son she would secure him forever and her happiness, not knowing the true extent of Henry's love for Anne. George joked that she should name him after him, and embraced her again before exclaiming over the fact he would be an uncle.

Her father stepped up towards her and stared into her eyes warily. Slowly and hesitantly he stepped closer and embraced her before kissing her cheek.

'I am proud of you,' Boleyn said. 'And not for the reason's you think, I'm proud of you for not listening to me and instead following your heart, you and the King will have a much more loving family than we ever did. Make sure you treasure it, and the child you will bring into this world, do not make the same mistakes I did.'

'Thank you papa,' Anne whispered and embraced her father again and smiled with the hope that in time she would be able to fix her relationship with her.

She leaned into Henry's arm as he wrapped it around her waist and pulled her to his side lovingly, he was smiling and laughing with such a look of genuine happiness that Anne's heart moved with joy that she had been responsible to make him this happy.

A flash of black caught her eye and she turned to see the lady Mary walking steadily towards the apartments in which hers resided. As if sensing her gaze Mary turned and matched her dark gaze with Anne's blue one. Anne was shocked by the hatred and the rage she saw there. Mary gazed at the woman who had stolen everything from her and did not attempt to conceal her dislike of the woman.

Anne knew in that moment that the poor girl would not rest, would not quit, until she had brought her down. She saw the Spanish ambassador Chapuys moving to escort the lady Mary, and knew that the once Princess still had allies in this court.

Mary carried on staring and willed Anne to know that she had not won, not yet. She would not give up, she would not give in, and she would fight for her rights, and her mother's and for the true catholic religion. She would see an end to the woman who dared call herself Queen. Anne sighed to herself as she acknowledged the fact that Mary would not quit in her quest. Raising her head slightly she nodded to the King's daughter in acceptance. Mary smirked evilly and nodded in reply and turned with Chapuys to go back to her apartment.

Anne laughed and tore her gaze away and snuggled deeper into Henry's arm pretending that it hadn't happened. She would worry about the Lady Mary tomorrow. For now she wanted to bask in her happiness for just a little while longer.

* * *

 **Wow that was long! Hope it makes up for the wait!**

 **Please drop me a review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Sorry it's taken so long guys, been very stressful couple of weeks at work.**

* * *

 _"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Anne was lounging in Henry's quarters, he had gone hunting with Anthony and she was now in a state where she was not in a position to accompany them as she used too. She was now obviously pregnant and riding was not good for the unborn child. Anne had always been active, riding, dancing and walKing were some of her favourite pastimes, but now she was left a little perplexed as to what was now available to her.

She enjoyed solitude, but now as Queen she was always accompanied, even now when she was resting on the King's bed, Nan sat sewing not a few yards away in a chair, with her back to her, giving her the air of privacy. Anne didn't think she had ever comprehended just what it meant to be Queen. The life as she knew it was over, and now she was Queen of England, the second most important person in her country. Her offspring would rule England and her blood would be immortal in the line of English royalty.

Her hand drifted to her stomach as she rubbed slightly, she wondered at its gender. Henry had booked to see one of his most revered astrologists who would inform them and hint towards the gender and health. She knew Henry wanted a boy, but in her heart she longed for a girl, even though England would benefit from a boy. She was selfish, she knew that, but she longed to give her little girl the family and childhood she hadn't had. And Henry perhaps wanted to do the same for a son.

Whatever the gender, she would love her child completely, with her whole heart. She couldn't wait to meet the tiny child that was encased in her stomach.

She spent most of her time in Henry's chamber. She rarely slept in her own, and although she used them for storage and dressing she mostly stayed with Henry as he preferred it. In truth it made her feel safer. She knew she had enemies and although she didn't think that anyone would dare attack her, it calmed her worries to be around her husband.

'Nan,' Anne called.

'Yes your majesty?' Nan sprang to her feet sewing forgotten as she curtsied to the Queen.

'I want to have a bath,' Anne replied. Being pregnant made her uncomfortable, it gave her aches and pains in places she did not know could even feel pain, and she found the hot water could soothe her aches.

Henry had employed men to knock through and tunnel a connection into Anne's chambers. It had taken them awhile, but it had been achieved and now Anne could come and go with privacy and without gossip. It was this route in which they left and emerged into Anne's presence chamber.

Nan went to ready her bath and Anne walked to her desk, pondering the books amongst there, when she stopped short. Laid on the table were three of her playing cards, the King of hearts, the Queen of hearts and the Queen of spades which had been cut straight across the picture where the Queen's head was. There was no note, but Anne understood the gesture immediately. Her heart raced and she immediately noticed that she was alone, and she felt sick to the stomach.

'Nan!' Anne called out panicked.

'Madam?' Nan hurried back into the main room at the sound of distress in her mistress's voice. She had served Anne a long time and knew when she was upset.

'Who else has been in here today?' Anne asked.

'No one your majesty, not that I am aware of,' Nan replied confused.

Anne sighed and ran a shaking hand over her forehead.

'Anne?' Nan whispered, forsaking formality and resting a comforting hand on her mistress's shoulder.

'Here is a prophecy,' Anne pointed shakenly to the cards, 'here is the King…here is the Queen…and here is me…with my head cut off.'

Nan stared in shock at the cards before her, and was surprised at how calm Anne sounded even though she could see the signs of distress on the Queen's face.

'Shall I get the King?' Nan asked.

'He is hunting,' Anne replied.

'Sir Anthony?' Nan asked

'He is _with_ the King,' Anne replied. She suddenly realised how many people she trusted, she seemed almost friendless and it scared her.

'Your brother!' Nan exclaimed.

'Yes!' Anne replied thanking god for Nan's quick thinking, 'send for him.'

Nan hurried to leave, but Anne suddenly feared being alone, and called out for her to wait.

'Send a guard,' Anne ordered.

Nan nodded and held the door open keeping Anne in view as she directed the guard with his instructions. Nan hurried back in hoping to give her mistress some peace of mind. She turned and surveyed her Queen who was seated at her desk her arms clutching herself around her swollen stomach as she stared with fearful eyes at the cards.

'Your majesty?' Nan asked hoping to take Anne's attention away from the cards.

Anne looked up.

'Would you mind looking at my needlework, you're a much better seamstress than me and mine has muddled up?' Nan said picking up her discarded needlework.

Anne nodded, knowing what Nan was doing, but not minding as she moved from her desk and into a comfortable lounge chair near the window, where she could see the courtyard for Henry's return. She took Nan's needlework and unconsciously began to pull at the threads, her hands going through the motions as her mind swirled in chaotic thoughts.

'Anne?' George called beyond her rooms.

Anne stood straight away, and ran to meet him and threw herself into her brother's arms as soon as he came through the door.

'Anne, what's wrong?' George asked worried stroking her hair.

From her brother's arms she spied her father who had followed his son into her rooms. She had not requested her father but he had come along anyway.

Sensing Anne's gaze George spoke.

'Father was with me when the guard asked for me,' he explained, and Anne nodded in reply her gaze not moving from her father.

She didn't know whether to trust him with this. He had attacked her, used her, and berated her, for all she knew he could be behind this. As she looked at him though, she couldn't think it of him, there was regret and sorrow in his eyes, it seemed Thomas Boleyn was realising his distress he had caused on his family.

'Your majesty,' He bowed low.

'Father,' Anne replied.

He rose at her admission but kept a distance from his children.

'What happened Anne, the guard ran in like he was half mad?!' George exclaimed.

'I don't know…' Anne didn't know how to start. She didn't want to worry her family, and perhaps if she was not pregnant she would have said nothing, but it was not just her she had to think about now.

'Is there something wrong with the child?' George asked his eyes moving to his sisters now rounded stomach.

'No, he is fine,' Anne replied resting her hand on her bump.

'He?' Boleyn asked, wonder and hope in his eyes. A few days ago Anne would have assumed the hope would have been because having a boy would grant him more power. But now Anne saw the sincerity and the longing to start again.

'Just a feeling,' Anne replied.

'Then what is it?' George asked taking his sister by the shoulders.

Without answering Anne moved aside and gestured to her desk where the playing cards still lay. Her father and brother moved towards it and gazed down at its surface. George gasped and stepped back in understanding, but her father simply stood still and stared a look of anguish and despair on his face.

'Who has been in these rooms?' Boleyn immediately questioned Nan, Anne's lady.

'No one but her majesty and her ladies maids,' Nan replied timidly.

'All trustworthy individuals?' Boleyn questioned.

'Yes selected by her majesty herself,' Nan gestured to Anne.

'You can't think one of my ladies did this father!' Anne exclaimed.

'I will consider the possibility,' Boleyn replied.

'In any case we can't rule it out,' George replied.

'You trust these women?' Boleyn continued.

'Of course, most have been with me for years,' Anne replied.

'And those who haven't?' George replied.

'I don't believe any of them possess this amount of cunning, for this type of threat,' Anne replied.

'And no one else has been in here?' Boleyn questioned again.

'Just my husband,' Anne replied with a blush.

'We must tell the King,' George said.

Anne sighed. Henry was already worried enough as it was, he had a rebellious daughter, Spain was making threats against England, and on top of that she was pregnant. It had been her that had forced him out into the woods, to take his mind off of everything. It had taken much persuasion, but Henry was no idler than she was, and she knew he liked sport.

'Anne?' Boleyn questioned.

Anne was astonished, never had her father requested her opinion on the matter, if there was something he wanted done, she was forced to do it. How the balance of power had shifted.

'I am carrying the King's heir,' Anne said with her head held high, and her hand on her stomach, 'I will tell him.'

'Tell me what?' Henry said from the doorway.

The group immediately turned, everyone sinking into a low bow or curtsey, except for Anne who stared at her husband in dismay.

' .What?' Henry spelled out stepping further into the room with Anthony close behind.

'My love I did not expect you back so soon,' Anne replied quickly stepping into her husband's arms and resting her head on his chest.

Everyone respectively closed their eyes, at the love displayed before them. Henry's arm's wrapped around Anne and he buried his head in her dark hair which was down, just how he liked it. He had not expected to see such a group when coming back from his poor hunting trip. The weather and his mood and meant his endeavour had proven fruitless and he had called it quits after an hour. He had hurried back anxious to see Anne, as he always was these days, but did not expect to see most of her family in her rooms, with equal looks of distress in their faces. At first he thought that her father had been the cause and he was prepared to arrest the man and be done with him once and for all. But one look at his face, had driven the thought from his mind. Thomas Boleyn was clearly unnerved.

'The game was poor,' Henry replied to Anne absentmindedly running a hand down her back.

Anne stepped back and looked into her husband's eyes, such a clear blue like her own. She felt trepidation in telling Henry, but knew it had to be done. Wordlessly she took her husband's hand and led him to the desk.

Henry followed Anne, confused as to what could have distressed her so, when he saw what she was leading him to. On her desk was a book of prophecy laid out in playing cards. It pictured Katherine as the Queen of hearts, and Anne with her head cut off, as the Queen of spades, with Henry as the King of hearts. Alarm and pain shot through him, and he remembered the dream he had in Hever when he had been alone with Anne. He had executed her in that dream, and the people had remained true to Katherine. That reality would not be this one, he wouldn't let it. He loved Anne with all of his heart and soul, and nothing mattered more to him than her health and happiness, not even his longing for a son.

'Do we have any idea as to who did this?' Henry said in a cold voice. Ignoring Anne's calming touch behind him on his shoulders.

'No your majesty,' George replied.

'Well we do know who has bad intentions to our Queen don't we?' Henry asked pointedly.

George and Boleyn looked down in dismay, of course they knew who did not favour Anne, but they would never say it out loud. They were some of the King's closest friends, and they dared not angry him.

'I will say it for you then, Brandon and his Wife, my daughter and her mother, the Spanish, Sir Thomas More, and many of my former bishops,' Henry replied his voice like ice.

Anne gasped to hear them all laid out in the open. She had so many enemies, so many people wanted to hurt her, never could she have foreseen the amount of danger loving Henry could bring her. She didn't even realise she was falling until Henry was guiding her into a chair and kneeling before her.

'Anne?' he questioned worried 'should I send for Linacre?'

'No, I am well,' Anne replied smiling a tearful smile. 'It just shocked me how many people hate me.'

'But think how many love you Anne,' Henry replied gesturing to the people around him, 'and your sister, and practically all of England is behind you, and our child will love you more than anyone else in the world.'

Anne smiled at Henry's comforting words and gently leaned forwards until her forehead was touching his.

'But, I will be making some changes I think,' Henry replied, 'to ensure your wellbeing.'

Anne nodded willing to do anything to ease his fears.

* * *

Henry announced his plans the next day to her, Anthony had been assigned as her chief protector and sworn shield. He would inspect her chambers and who she spoke to, and would be on the lookout for potential enemies.

He had also assigned some of his personal groomsmen into her service with her ladies. They would ensure her fires were lit, and her furniture was cleaned and do more of the heavy lifting. Having more male presences in her room, would give her a sense of security and help put off any potential attackers. He had assured her that these men were reliable and had worked for him for years.

There were three of them, and had been dressed in the colours of Anne's chosen uniform, gold and silver that she had her ladies wear. They were simple and pleasant and eager to please and she was eager to learn their names, who she later learned were, Bennet Morris, Christopher Humphrey, and William Brereton.

Brereton in particular seemed eager for the job, announcing that protecting the Queen was protecting the King's happiness and therefore was a very important job and an honour. Anne decided she quite liked him, he was calm and the friendliest of the three men assigned to her and always greeted her with a cheerful smile.

Henry also spent a great deal more time with her, more than he already did which was a lot. She was worried it was taking him from his duties, but he had assured her that her uncle and the rest of the councilman had his Kingdom under control. She did not like her uncle, but he was a clever man of noble blood and had always served Henry well, despite his efforts to manipulate him using his niece.

* * *

The next day Henry was leading Anne through the royal gardens with an entourage of guards walking ten paces behind, Anne hated the lack of privacy but knew it was needed.

'Thank you for protecting me,' Anne said raising his hand which was clasped in her to her mouth to kiss.

'It is my duty,' Henry replied.

'It shouldn't have to be,' Anne replied frowning.

'All I want from this world is your health and happiness Anne. I will let no one will take you from me,' Henry replied.

'I will never leave you,' Anne replied.

'I have a gift for you,' Henry returned.

Anne's eyes lit up, Henry's gifts had always been magnificent, whether it was a pretty verse of poetry written by his own hand or a splendid new piece of jewellery the likes she had never seen before, and she had always appreciated them. She liked pretty things as much as the next woman, and she giggled in anticipation.

'What is it?' Anne laughed.

Henry smiled to see her face light up.

'You'll have to choose it yourself,' he replied cryptically.

'I have to pick my own gift?' Anne asked bemused.

'Come I will take you to it,' Henry replied.

As they walked Henry kept to Anne's slower than usual pace and wrapped an arm around her waist hugging her close, and ignoring the entourage they had behind them.

'How are you?' he asked.

'I'm fine,' Anne said with a tight smile.

'Anne,' Henry whispered.

'I'm scared,' Anne finally admitted after walking a few paces, 'if it was just me, I would feel fine, but it's not.' Anne placed her hand on her stomach and Henry stopped her, to turn her towards him, and gently placed his hand over hers.

'There is nothing more important to me than you, and my unborn child,' Henry replied gazing at her sincerely, 'I will do everything in my power to keep you both safe.'

'I trust you,' Anne whispered back and placed a loving kiss on his lips.

How he wished he could crush her too him as he used to do, but she was more delicate now. His body yearned for her, especially now she was round with his child. He lusted after her like he had never done before. It was frustrating to think that they still had not fully consummated their marriage. As soon as she was able, Henry vowed he would love her in all the ways, he knew how. He would show her a devotion that would move heaven and earth.

'Come,' he said pulling away from temptation.

They walked for a few minutes more, until Anne heard the sounds of barking.

'The kennels?' Anne asked confused, to which Henry beamed in reply a childish grin on his face.

Anne had always loved animals, and had been fascinated by dogs. One of his female hounds had given birth to a litter of pups, and he thought it would make a good loyal companion for her and if trained properly would help keep her safe.

'I'm getting a dog?' Anne squealed.

'Of course, one of your own choosing,' Henry replied.

Anne laughed and quickened her pace excited. The kennel master met them at the entrance and Henry immediately started quizzing him on his hunting dogs and the puppies and which ones would be best suited. They entered the musty kennels and were led to a pen where the most beautiful puppies Anne had seen were suckling from their mother. They were adorable, but Henry assured her once grown they would be fierce protectors.

Anne gazed at them all and wondered which one she liked best when she heard a loud growling noise coming from the pen next to this one with the puppies. Distracted Anne walked away whilst Henry continued to question his master of dogs.

Upon rounding the corner Anne was struck by the sight before her. The biggest dog she had ever seen was crouched to the floor and was letting out the fiercest some growls. On closer inspection Anne realised it was a female Mastiff. One of the most powerful breeds and used in battle. Anne thought the poor thing looked pitiful, alone and clearly frightened.

'Ah,' said the kennel master coming up behind his Queen. 'She's a fearsome thing, only a year old and not finished growing, one of the finest I've ever bred. But she lacks the temperament, I was hoping to breed another line from her, but she won't let anyone or any dog come near her. Probably have to be hanged.'

Anne stared at the beast in shock and dismay. Although fearful looking Anne saw the fear in the female's eyes. The fear she saw in her eyes resonated deep within Anne, she too was afraid of the unknown, afraid of the danger that seemed to lurk round every corner. She more than anyone knew that trust was hard to come by.

Kneeling down in front of the railings she gazed into the animals eyes.

'Anne!' Henry exclaimed over her dress and her kneeling near such a dangerous animal.

'Its fine,' Anne replied not taking her eyes off of the dog.

The growling from the large mastiff slowly lessened and it gazed back at Anne with sorrowful eyes and let out a pitiful whine placing her head on the floor.

'Let me in!' Anne instructed.

'Your majesty, I must protest, the bitch is lethal, and very dangerous to you,' the kennel master replied.

'She won't hurt me,' Anne declared confident.

'Anne I can't risk your life and our child's over a dog,' Henry said.

'Please will you trust me?' Anne begged.

Henry sighed and stared into her beautiful eyes and glanced back at the now quiet bitch in the corner. He could deny her nothing.

'The minute she so much as growls…' Henry replied.

Anne nodded and returned her attention to the female dog. Confident she was right, she strode forwards without hesitation and opened the door to her pen, she did not hesitate and walked up to the trembling female.

Nearing her Anne saw how beautiful she was in her fearsome looks, her wrinkled face and strong muscles showed how much strength she possessed but Anne knew the animal would not attack her, she sensed a connection between them.

Bending down to the female's height she held out her hand, not reaching, just there, waiting for the dog to come to her. The female sniffed at her, and she heard Henry suck in a breath behind her, she did not break her gaze. Slowly the bitch unfurled itself and staggered to its feet showing Anne's its height and full muscled body in a beautiful beige coat of fur that looked very soft. She certainly wasn't the cutest dog Anne had seen, but she was beautiful in her own way.

Slowly the female inched forwards and then finally rested her cold wet nose against Anne's outstretched hand. Anne smiled in delight and gently moved her hand up to scratch behind her ears, laughing as the dog nuzzled into her hand. Gently keeping her movements slow and then sat down on the dirty stone floor and patted her knee. The female now more confident had no problem laying down and resting her massive head on Anne's knees.

Anne ran her fingers over its head and laughed at the feel of the wrinkles and skin folds beneath her hands. Suddenly, the dog's head raised up and seemed to stare at Anne's stomach. Sniffing slightly, she inched forwards and then rested her head on Anne's bump in a seemingly protective gesture.

Beaming, Anne looked back to Henry, who stared at her in wonder and shock, the Kennel master was openly gaping.

'Well Master Watson, it appears we won't be having one of the hounds,' Henry replied.

Anne had tamed the female beast so efficiently when a master dog's man had failed to do so. She truly was a wonder. He had to admit, that any assailant would definitely think twice with this dog in Anne's company.

'I love her,' Anne laughed again ruffling the dog's wrinkled cheeks.

'I can see that,' Henry replied smiling.

Inching to her feet Anne left the pen with her new companion at her heels. She was handed a leash by the master, who gingerly stayed out of reach of the dog.

'What is her name?' Anne asked.

'We didn't see the point, your majesty, she was going to be put down,' Master Watson replied.

Anne frowned but understood. There was no point in creating attachment to something that wasn't going to last.

'What will you call her my love?' Henry asked.

'Arabella,' Anne replied, 'it is the Dutch name for beauty, which I learnt in the Netherlands, when I served the archduchess, Margaret of Austria.'

'Very fitting,' Henry lied, not seeing any beauty in the beast before him, but Anne clearly already doted on the animal.

'Bella for short,' Anne continued.

* * *

That night Anne slept in Henry's bed with Arabella snugly situated on a soft pallet at the bottom of the bed. Henry's arm was around her and she felt safe. However to make things right, and to avoid conflict she knew that certain situations had to be brought up.

'You need to talk to your daughter,' Anne told him.

'I will, don't worry about that,' Henry said in a venomous voice.

'No, you must make peace with her,' Anne replied.

'And how would I do that?' Henry asked sitting up frustrated, 'She will only yield if her mother is made Queen, she is restored to the title of Princess and Catholicism reigns over England again, all of which I am thoroughly against.'

'Henry, she is a part of you, and therefore part of me must love her, you must reach out to her,' Anne replied.

'How? She is lost, I see madness and hatred in her eyes,' Henry replied.

'I see a young girl who has lost all she knew,' Anne said.

'I loved her, I still love her, that is all that she should feel entitled too in this world, that is all _I_ ever wanted,' Henry whispered.

'Katherine didn't bring her up to feel that way,' Anne said.

'I should have done more, realised what was happening to her,' Henry huffed.

'We cannot change the past my love, only learn from it,' Anne told him.

Henry turned to look at his wise wife, and once again thanked god for bringing her into his life. He truly was blessed to have her.

'Tomorrow I will talk to her,' Henry relented.

'That is all I ask. Do not speak of me, of politics, of Katherine, talk of something pleasant and boring, show her you care,' Anne advised.

'I will try, but she has inherited my temper it would seem,' Henry laughed.

'We also seen your astrologist tomorrow,' Anne whispered excited.

'Hmm, maybe we should think of names?' Henry replied snuggling back down into the pillows and brining Anne to his chest and resting a hand on her stomach and caressed their unborn child gently.

'For a girl? Anne asked.

'Anne, after you?' Henry asked.

'No!' Anne said with a frown.

'Eleanor?' Henry asked thinking of the peasant lady who had gifted Anne her wedding veil.

'Perhaps for a middle name,' Anne considered.

'Elizabeth,' Henry stated, 'for my mother and yours.'

Anne beamed in reply, 'Perfect.'

'She will be if she resembles you, I will have a most sought after princess on my hands,' Henry laughed.

'Promise me, if it is a girl we won't marry her off before she can even talk, I want her to live Henry, not to be burdened,' Anne pleaded.

'Of course not, if marrying abroad has taught me anything, it is that nothing comes of it, our daughter, should we have one, will marry an Englishman of good character and family, who will love her as much as we will,' Henry replied.

Anne laughed in happiness and kissed his clothed chest.

'And if it is a boy?' Anne asked.

'Edward?' Henry asked.

Again Anne scrunched her nose up.

'Henry?' he asked thinking of his family tradition.

'I love your name my love, but you've already had two son's named Henry…' Anne trailed off.

She was right, his little sickly boy he had with Katherine had lived for fifty wonderful days, before dying. He was taken too soon, and the grief of losing a child made Henry never want to try again. But try he did, until another dead child followed, and another, and another, until his faith in Katherine and her virtue disintegrated.

His long time mistress Bessie Blount had given him a bastard son Henry Fitzroy. He had been beautiful, sweet and kind, and Henry had loved him so much as to move him in front of Mary, believing him to be a better candidate for the throne. Back then it was because of his gender, but if the same situation was placed before him now, he would make the same decision because of character and temperament. Mary was unfit to rule.

'I never saw your little Henry Fitzroy, but apparently he was a lovely child?' Anne asked, wanting to see if Henry would talk about it.

'Yes he was, and I spent little time with him,' Henry replied sadly.

'Did you love his mother? Your mistress?' Anne asked, not out of jealousy, but out of curiosity, there was still much of Henry's life she did not know.

'Bessie, was a source of joy, she distracted me from Katherine and my dead children, she was young and beautiful and I considered her a friend, but I never loved her, though I know she loved me. When she became pregnant, I knew I would acknowledge the child, and appease her husband, it was the least I could do for her,' Henry replied.

'And after that my sister replaced her,' Anne stated.

'Yes, and I used her, I did not hold her in the same affection as I did Bessie, I was so consumed with rage and jealousy over Francis, that I wanted to take anything I considered his away from him,' Henry replied.

'She forgives you,' Anne told him knowing that his treatment of her sister did not sit well with him.

'How badly did I injure her?' He asked.

'You didn't, Mary knows her own mind, and she chose to be the mistress of Kings, albeit with my father's influence, she regrets it now, and fears I think, that she will die alone,' Anne replied.

'We won't let that happen,' Henry replied.

'We still haven't decided on a name for a boy,' Anne said changing the subject.

'Let's see what inspires us,' Henry replied yawning.

'Good night my love,' Anne replied reaching up to kiss his slightly stubble jaw.

'Good night sweetheart,' Henry replied.

Giving off a slight growl the pair laughed as Arabella had to have her say too.

'Goodnight Bella,' Anne laughed and snuggled down into her husband's arms, and fell into slumber, for now at least, at peace.

* * *

Brereton did not know what would happen when he had placed the cards on her table, whilst the ladies were in the King's chamber. He had been hoping to catch her alone and do the job God had intended, but she had not been there. Instead he decided to distress her and unnerve her by leaving a threatening message, knowing she would be clever enough to figure it out.

When he had heard that the King was furious he had been elated that Anne would now be even more wary and therefore more predictable and easier to kill. He did not predict however that the King would make him one of Anne's servants. It had been a stroke of luck sent to him by God, now he could learn her patterns and plan his time to strike.

He would not rush this, patience was needed for hunting, and he had much of it. However he had a deadline, he must accomplish his mission before she birthed the demon child in her womb. Or all would be lost. Even he did not have the stomach to kill an infant, but killing the mother before it was born would rid him of his guilt. The lady Mary would be the King's only heir, and he would marry a good catholic woman, or remarry good Queen Katherine and everything would be right again. The pope would reward him massively, as would Spain, and perhaps one day so would his master, for ridding him of the evil that was his wife.

Her time was coming to an end. He knew it. He would bide his time and sometime soon, he would strike.

 **Let me know what you think!**


	21. Chapter 21

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Henry hesitated outside his daughters chambers. He sighed to himself and told himself that it was just Mary behind those doors, but he wasn't afraid to admit that he hardly knew his daughter. She was lost to him, and if he did not try to bring her back from her destructive path, he was sure she would be lost to him forever. It pained him to see her so angry and jealous, and was angry with himself, that if he had paid more attention to her, and took her away from Katherine's influence, she might not have turned out this way. He was doing this for Anne, and their unborn child, part of him wanted to lock his daughter up and never allow her to leave, but he loved her as much as he feared her.

He motioned to the guard, who opened the doors to her main chamber and announced his presence. Mary was sat near the window, with a book in her hand dressed in her customary black, and her dark hair pinned and hidden by a Spanish hood. She rose upon seeing her father and curtseyed as was customary and kept her eyes down.

'Your majesty.' She murmured.

'I came to see you,' Henry replied and crept a little closer to her.

'As you wish,' Mary replied, rising and gesturing for her father to seat himself.

'How are you?' Henry asked.

Mary snorted slightly and looked at her father with something close to disdain and disbelief. Henry sighed, of course he knew how she was, she was miserable and distressed and he could not do anything to relieve it.

'I am _sad_ , and I miss my mother,' Mary replied.

'I would allow you to see her, if you accepted Anne as Queen,' Henry replied then cursed himself remembering Anne's advice to keep the conversation pleasant and boring.

'My mother would rather me stay away than submit,' Mary replied.

'I think Katherine would want you happy,' Henry replied.

'My mother is a proud lady,' Mary replied.

'Yes, I always admired that about her,' Henry tried hoping to meet her in the middle.

'Did you love her?' Mary asked hesitantly. Henry stared at his daughter in distress, how could he explain to her Katherine's lies, how could he explain the misery and distress she had brought him without making things worse.

'I believe that I did,' Henry replied.

'I remember,' Mary whispered with tears in her eyes, 'I was young but I remember, we were _happy_ , and then you changed.'

'What I felt for your mother, was infatuation and admiration, but slowly I came to see that her lies had dire consequences, on not only myself but our entire family and even this kingdom' Henry replied.

'My mother would never lie to you,' Mary insisted.

'But she did, she admitted it to me, she consummated her marriage with my brother Arthur, she loved him very much, I see now that the way she used to look at him, is the same way that I look at Anne, I thought that in marrying her she would show me that love also, but she never did, not like that. She lied and it cost me greatly, she was and always will be my brother's wife' Henry replied.

'The pope gave you a dispensation to marry my mother!' Mary replied.

'Under the understanding that the marriage was not consummated,' Henry said.

'She loved you!' Mary cried.

'She loved her station more and she was willing to sacrifice all of our dead children to keep it,' Henry said.

'My mother had no control over that,' Mary replied.

'Katherine comes from a long line of fertile women, her very symbol is the pomegranate meaning fertility, but we broke God's law, and she did so knowingly and he punished her for that, which also punished me,' Henry replied.

'You had me!' Mary exclaimed.

'Yes, and I love you very much,' Henry said 'but you are a daughter, and your health is unreliable, your temper volatile.'

'I am what you made me!' Mary cried.

'No, you are what your mother made you!' Henry replied.

'We will never agree on this will we?' Mary suddenly said and her shoulders slumped and her face lost its animation.

'I do not see how,' Henry replied 'If you would just talk to Anne, get to know her, I am not asking for you to view her as a mother. But have a conversation with her, and you will see that she is a loving intelligent woman who is carrying your future sibling.'

'I can't!' Mary spat.

'Mary!' Henry begged.

'She is a Lutheran father!' Mary cried 'She will tear this country apart, already you have broken from Rome and Spain is at your doorstep. She is from the devil and her spawn is his child!'

Henry closed his eyes at her words and shook his head as tears slipped from his eyes. He had tried his best, he had done as Anne had begged, but he couldn't stand to listen to his only chid insult the woman he loved, the person who was most important to him in this world.

'I do not see how we can ever be reconciled if you keep these views,' Henry replied.

Mary stood and knelt in front of her father and cupped his cheek in her hand daringly, 'Have faith father, God will rid us of this plight and restore goodness and purity to this country.'

Henry shoved her hand away and stood towering over her knelt form, 'No child, God is on _my_ side and on my Queen's. He has forsaken you.'

Henry stepped around her and without looking back he excited her chambers and strode from her rooms as fast as his feet could carry him. He could not stay there anymore and see the crazed look on his daughter's face. He did not believe she would actively try to harm Anne, but he definitely believed that she would conspire with others. His daughter was clever and her passion for Catholicism was extreme.

He was afraid.

* * *

Anne heaved as her stomach rolled and she vomited into the chamber pot and Nan stroked her back and pressed a cold compress to her forehead.

'Should I call for the doctor?' Nan asked.

'No, I'm sure this is perfectly normal,' Anne replied having heard of this sickness that pregnant ladies often had to endure. She was nearly six months pregnant and had expected this during her first months but had been blissfully lucky. But now it seemed her luck had ran out.

'You are so pale your majesty,' Nan worried.

Anne fell back onto her bed and rubbed at her stomach, she worried over her child's stillness as she had yet to feel movement.

'I do feel rather unwell,' Anne replied feeling sorry for herself.

'I am going for doctor Linacre!' Nan said and left without waiting to hear Anne's reply.

A whimper drew her attention as Arabella jumped onto the bed and heaved her huge furred body until she was lying next to Anne and offered her head to be scratched. Anne knew Henry did not like Bella on the bed, but she welcomed the comfort from her dog. She was so attentive and had an almost human look in her eyes, as if she understood everything but had not the words to express herself.

'Well, I never heard that pregnancy was easy,' Anne laughed to which Bella mewled in reply. Anne leaned back and allowed her eyes to drift close, safe in her protector's presence.

Brereton hesitantly slipped into the Queen's chambers. He had watched from an alcove as Anne's loyal maid had ran out of her chambers, and suddenly he felt that this was his chance. The witch was alone, and vulnerable. From his sleeve her produced a dagger and quietly opened the door to her chambers and walked on in silent footsteps. He knew that the best way to avoid detection was not try to. Hesitancy caused nervousness, which caused mistakes. His steps were assured and well placed as he waked silently through her chambers.

He had been waiting for days for the opportunity, thankful that his position in the Queen's household meant that he would have ample opportunity to do so. However the King's paranoia had meant that he had not had as many chances as he would have liked.

Stepping into her bedchamber he gazed around the room, the air smelt sickly, and hot, and he realised that the demon spawn inside of the witch must be causing her havoc, and he rejoiced in her discomfort. The sheer drapes around the enormous bed were drawn and although the material was expensive, it was sheer and indulgent and he could see her form from behind it and the soft rise of her chest as she breathed in sleep.

This was it, God was calling him. He felt it, the anticipation and the euphoric like feeling that rushed through him as he crept closer to his goal. He could almost hear the whispers of God's angels urging him on, encouraging him forwards. Stepping up onto the raised platform he reached forward a hand towards the drapes and hesitantly drew them back.

The sight before him almost caused him to cry out in alarm. The whore's great beast laid next to her, its head resting on the devil spawn in protection. But it was also asleep and he sighed in relief, he knew that the enormous beast would overpower him and could not understand why the whore saw such an attraction to the thing. It was hulking and ugly and not at all what he would have pictured the witch choosing as a companion. But it seemed the evil in her was drawn to equally ugly things.

God was on his side however, his angels had assured his success by luring them both into sleep.

Now was his chance.

He leaned over and raised the sharp dagger and admired it as it glinted in the sunlight that spilled into the room. He looked down at his prey and her image almost dazzled him. The witch was undoubtedly beautiful, with her raven hair spilled out behind her, her face pale and her dark lashes spread onto her cheeks. She looked almost lifeless in her sickly state but to Brereton it was almost alluring and arousing to see her in such a state. A state he had desired for so long, to see her lifeless and cold and pale.

This was God's will.

Raising the dagger ever higher, he took in a deep breath.

…

The door to her bedchamber slammed against the wall and Brereton stashed the dagger quickly as Anne shot up and her bitch jumped to its feet with its legs over Anne's, crouching over its mistress protectively.

Thinking quickly Brereton stooped and picked up the chamber pot full of vomit and assumed a worried expression.

Bella growled and barked and shifted forwards with her teeth snarled backwards.

'What on earth is going on?'

Boleyn pulled back the drapes to assess the situation. Anne was on her bed looking dazed with a menacing Bella crouched over her and one of her manservants stood holding a pot of what smelt like vomit and a confused expression on his face. Nan and Linacre came into view also to see what had occurred.

'My lord?' Brereton asked confused.

'What are you doing in here?' He shouted.

'Her majesty was ill I was attending her,' he murmured with a panicked fearful voice and nodded his head to the chamber pot before him.

'Papa, enough you will scare the poor boy,' Anne spoke.

'He shouldn't be in here on his own,' Boleyn accused glaring at the servant.

'He's just doing his job,' Anne insisted.

'You shouldn't be alone!' Boleyn cried.

'I wasn't, Bella was here,' Anne replied.

'What is happening here?'

Henry strode into the room and assessed the situation. All of the occupants bowed even Brereton, whilst almost comically and precariously holding his burden.

'Nothing, my love,' Anne assured him and held out a hand for him to come to her.

Henry obeyed immediately and almost ran forwards to place a kiss on his Queen's fevered forehead.

'You are sick?' He questioned.

'I fear so,' Anne replied.

'What happened?' Henry asked.

'I have been sick all morning, Nan left for the doctor, and William here was cleaning up,' Anne replied.

'She was alone!' Boleyn insisted, 'he shouldn't be in here alone.'

'I can assure you my lord that William Brereton is a trusted servant, the man is simply doing his duty, and besides Bella here would protect my Queen,' Henry laughed and ruffled the great dog's mane.

Boleyn sighed and surveyed the servant convinced something was amiss. He had always prided himself on having a great judge of character. It was one of the reasons he made such a good ambassador. There was something off about this young man, he appeared far too dim and innocent to him, but the King trusted him, and besides the young man was clearly devoted to come actively looking to clean up his daughters mess.

'Get out!' he ordered to the boy, who quickly bowed to everyone and rushed from the room.

'There is no need to worry so Papa,' Anne laughed.

'I am your father, it is my duty too,' he replied.

'First time for everything I suppose,' Anne snapped back.

The room became quiet as everyone looked at him. Her words hurt him, but he knew they were just and on point. He had _never_ cared before, only so long as she brought him fortune and power. He did not know what had changed, whether it was the thorough beating the King had given him, or seeing his daughter sit upon the throne. Or the fact she was carrying his grandchild. His heart had been thawed, and he now had a lifetime to make up his misdeeds. Not only to Anne but to Mary and George also.

He bowed to the couple and quickly strolled from the room.

Linacre hesitantly stepped forwards and examined Anne. He assured her it was perfectly normal to experience symptoms at differing points throughout her pregnancy. And assured her that no two pregnancies were ever the same. He gave her a tonic to soothe her stomach and recommended ginger to her diet to help with the nausea.

Henry watched as Linacre finished his duties and left along with Nan and then pulled a reluctant Bella by the collar off of the bed, annoyed that she was taking his place.

'Be nice to her!' Anne laughed.

'Nice, I am far too nice to the thing that is taking up all of my wife's affections,' Henry laughed.

'She is just protective,' Anne returned.

'She's not the only one it would seem,' Henry relied referring to her father.

'Yes,' Anne sighed 'I shouldn't have said that.'

'Yes you should, you should not forgive him so easily,' Henry assured her and ran a hand over her hair.

Anne leaned back into his hand and closed her eyes trying to distract herself from the discomfort she felt.

'I will have to have words with my son for causing my Queen such distress!' Henry laughed and ran a hand over her rounded stomach.

There was nothing more arousing to him to see Anne heavy with his child. Although sick and not looking her best, he was still stunned by her beauty. She would be beautiful no matter what she looked like, it was her soul and spirit that called to his.

'I think he has his father's stubborn nature and might not listen!' Anne replied.

Henry laughed and shifted so his head was in line with her belly.

'I am the king of England and your lord and master and I demand you cease tormenting my wife!' Henry instructed running his hand over her again.

Anne suddenly shot up with a yelp and her hand covered his.

'What was that?' Henry asked, shocked at the feeling he had gotten through his hand.

'I can feel him!' Anne laughed, tears coming to her eyes.

They both gasped again as they felt their child kick at their joined hands.

'Be strong my son!' Henry whispered, 'be strong.'

'It's magical,' Anne whispered.

Henry understood her completely. He had never felt anything like it before. Katherine had hidden herself away throughout all of her pregnancies, even in the beginning months. He had not seen her, nor felt their children move. He had been permitted after the birth and that was it. Bessie Blount had been confined far away from the court to avoid gossip as she was carrying his bastard child. It seemed to him that the man's role in pregnancy was to be far away from the mother and child for as long as possible.

But Anne defied convention again, she rejoiced in his closeness and he loved that she wanted to share this experience with him. She was not selfish but instead was loving and he felt love like he had never felt before flow through him for the child growing inside his wife's stomach. He was involved, he had felt his unborn child's movements. It was truly a feeling he would never forget.

'Thank you,' he whispered and kissed her cheek and forehead; anywhere he could reach.

'You do not have to thank me Henry,' Anne whispered.

'I do,' Henry replied 'I have a lot to thank you for.' Henry insisted.

'You have given me everything, it is only right that I give everything back in return,' Anne replied.

Henry smiled and kissed her lovingly and held her close, their hand's still joined as they both fell into a light slumber with Bella as a lookout.

* * *

Brereton stormed into his small quarters. It was one room, with a small pallet for his bed, below the window which was draped in black was his altar which he had fashioned from his chest of drawers, by covering it in a white sheet and placing his religious ornaments on top. His crucifix was crude and wooden, and his representation of Christ was not the best. But there was a Latin bible that had cost most of his salary which was his prized possession.

Why had God forsaken him so?

He shrugged off his shoes and gasped at the chill the stone floor gave to his naked feet, walking forwards he fell to his knees by his altar and crossed himself.

'Forgive me father, for I have failed you,' he whispered.

He prayed for a sign of how to proceed, all his efforts and been thwarted. The devil was strong with the whore. He knew God had power to defeat him, but her power far exceeded his own. He begged for Christ to lead him.

He began to pray, quietly whispering words with his hands clasped.

' _I can do all things through that which Christ has strengtheneth me. God hath both raised up the Lord, and will also raise up me by his own power. For the kingdom of God is not in word, but in power. Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. For I am God's servant for England's good. Thou who hast done wrong be afraid, for I shall not bear the sword in vain. For I am the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer.'_

He finished his prayers and quietly knelt waiting for an answer. Slowly an understanding came upon him and he opened his eyes. He was _not worthy_ of the task yet. He had to prove to God that he was his chosen servant. That he was worthy enough of the task before him. God could not entrust this to anyone. It had to be someone who was proven to be worthy.

Standing he shed his shirt and stood straight, his naked back shivering in the cold air of his small chambers. Walking towards the altar he withdrew from its drawers a long whip with woven leather straps which had embedded on its tails sharp metal fragments which would cut into his skin.

Silently he crossed himself and closed his eyes and remembered that Christ had suffered far more than himself for the good of mankind and Christendom, he would only begin to touch upon the pain and sacrifice that his Lord Jesus had performed. Flinging the whip backwards he refused to cry out as the straps cut into his back, creating a delicious burn.

 _'I can do all things through him who strengthens me,'_ he whispered panting slightly.

He struck himself again grunting through the stinging pain.

' he spoke staring into the face of Jesus upon his crucifix, willing himself to be worthy.

The whip cut into his back again bringing with it the sharp sting of pain.

' _O Lord; attend to my cry! Give ear to my prayer from lips free of deceit! From your presence let my vindication come! Let your eyes behold the right! You have tried my heart, you have visited me by night, you have tested me, and you will find nothing; I have purposed that my mouth will not transgress. My steps have held fast to your paths; my feet have not slipped. '_

Once again he flung the whip over his shoulder harder and harder, all the while muttering his prayers in between and feeling power flow through him. Eventually he fell to his knees and stared up into the face of his lord his hands outstretched wide in the shape of a cross with blood tracing down his back.

He felt the pain, but it was glorious, the darkness of his room was obliterated as light filtered through the black coverings and sunlight spilled across his bloodied torso. His eyes were closed, an expression of euphoria on his face as he felt God's power flow unto him.

'I am your angel,' he whispered and kissed his hand and crossed himself once again.

He dressed himself again without tending to his back and replaced the items to his altar. He had proven himself worthy, and he would not lose faith. His task would be completed. He was an angel sent from God and his will would be done.

* * *

 **Hope you like it!**


	22. Chapter 22

**_Well done to the person who noticed the similarities to the da Vinci code in the last chapter! Kudos! ;)_**

 ** _Sorry for the wait, I was in Thailand!_**

* * *

 _"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

 _April 1531 Anne is 6 months pregnant_

Anne walked serenely through the halls of Whitehall, smiling at those who bowed before her, her hands laid carefully on her stomach as she walked. Her lying in would begin soon, and she did not want to waste the time she had left in her apartments. Henry was busy at work with his council drafting new laws of legislation concerning the new religion and its religious houses. So far the people had been remarkably accepting of the new religion, with some obvious protesters however.

The Lady Mary was not silent in her disgust along with the Spanish ambassadors, who spoke of great repercussions should they allow such heresy to continue. Henry would not concede however, he fully supported the Lutherans and welcomed the new religion. It was such a turnaround from when he was a devout catholic and defender of the faith. But how was he expected to continue in such a fashion when Rome refused his annulment through fear of Spain. Anne was positive that if it hadn't been for Katherine's interference and the consequential sacking of Rome and imprisonment of the Pope, that the Pope would have granted the divorce. Pope's did it all the time, and Henry's cause was just! Many thought he sought his divorce solely to marry Anne, and they were partly right, he did want to be free to marry her. But long before he had even met her he doubted the validation and the sanctity of his marriage to Katherine. It was sinful and against God and most of England knew that now.

In fact it was probably better for Anne that it had happened the way it did and the people were given the chance to see Katherine at her worst and to see her true nature. She was loyal to Spain first and foremost, she was a bad wife and her devout ways had ruined her body's chance of giving Henry the family he deserved. The people knew the truth now, and the vast majority now favoured Anne.

The courtiers were wary of her, neither smiling not frowning at her. They knew the power she had over Henry, and they knew that she could turn him against anyone with just a whisper in his ear. But she would never abuse her power, not anymore. She had done her family duty and gotten rid of Wolsey as her father and uncle told her to do, when she was still under their power. But she was Queen now, and Marquesse of Pembroke, she was beholden to no one but her husband and God. She would never use her husband in such a way again. She would not betray his trust ever again. She often felt guilty over Wolsey, the man had been so eager to cultivate a friendship with her once he saw the King's devotion to her. She knew that Henry had loved the man like a father, and although he was corrupt and greedy, she had been sorry to see him die in such a way. The life she carried in her stomach came about because of her husband's grief over his death and his loss and his want to feel something real in his time of need.

She thought of her Father and Uncle, her Uncle had kept his distance lately, almost as if he realised that Anne now knew her own power. He had no say over her life anymore and although she loved him as was her familial duty, she was happy that he stayed away. Although one of Henry's most trusted advisors, she could not help but realise that Norfolk's Father had been killed by Henry's and that at his heart, Norfolk would seek his own safety and advancement above all of others.

She had thought her Father was the same, and when he struck her in her chambers that horrible night, she had lost all faith in him. But he had changed since his recovery form Henry's beating. He had been apologetic and protective. She smiled when she remembered the incident a few weeks ago when he had found Henry's servant attending to her alone. The poor boy was doing his job and trying to help her and he had reacted so strongly. Brereton had been very distant since then and only offered her half smiles as though he was scared to go anywhere near her. She would have to talk to her Father again and set things right.

'Sweetheart!' Henry called upon seeing her entrance into his presence chamber. The small council stood and bowed immediately upon seeing her and she nodded her head in their direction.

'What are you doing up?' He asked dropping the parchment he was holding and hurrying over to her and grasping her hands.

'It is morning, and a beautiful one at that, there is no reason to be in my apartment my love,' Anne replied kissing his cheek gently.

'I can think of two very important ones,' Henry laughed and placed a gentle hand on her stomach.

'My lying in will come soon and I want to go outside whilst I can,' Anne told him.

'Of course my love, I will accompany you,' Henry said and waved towards his courtiers.

'That's not necessary Henry, I know you are busy,' Anne said, having only wanted to see him before heading to the royal gardens.

'I want to,' Henry smiled.

Anne loved his smile, although he was older than her, she loved seeing his boyish smile. He was a man in love and it showed. Henry had always looked far younger than his years, with his athletic figure and handsome features which showed no sign of aging. But when he smiled he truly seemed to Anne like a man in love with life. She envied that about him, his yearning for life, she too loved nature and the joys that life could bring, but she didn't think that she truly appreciated it like Henry did. Her father had once described him of being like the sun, and that when people were out of its presence everything seemed dark and joyless. She felt that increasingly often from knowing the young King. She was restless and sad when she did not see him for a long time, and found herself counting down the minutes until she could be with him, and be seen on his arm. She was the luckiest girl in the world to have captured his attention and held it.

She had seen the girls that had come and gone, her sister being one of them, and although her Father had encouraged her to hold his attention, she had been willing to give him her maidenhead that day when she agreed to be his mistress. But he had resisted, he had deemed her worth it, worth the wait, worth all the agony and years of waiting to be with her, to have her as his Queen, she did not know what was so special about her that captured his attention so, but she was ever thankful that she had.

Henry finished up his conversation and gave orders to Cromwell and his council and escorted Anne outside into the gardens with her ladies following at a discreet distance behind, in her state it was not wise to be alone, even with just the king. If anything happened, Anne wanted to be prepared.

'How are you feeling my love?' Henry asked slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her towards him. It was April and the sun was shining but the sharp crispness of spring had still not left, and Henry did not want her to catch a cold.

'I feel fine my love,' Anne replied leaning into her love.

'And my son?' Henry asked bringing another hand to rest lovingly on her rounded stomach.

'Content and quiet, although he seems to be giving me a craving for marzipan,' Anne said frowning, and Henry laughed knowing that Anne did not favour the sweet. It seemed like him, his boy would have a sweet tooth.

'So all is well?' Henry asked again. He didn't want to seem like he was hounding her, however her health and safety were the most important things to him.

'We are very well,' Anne replied and rested a hand over his where it laid still on her stomach.

Walking towards Anne's favourite willow tree that shaded a small stream that trickled slowly and glinted in the sunlight and led out of the gardens, they seated themselves on the bench that resided there so Anne could catch her breath.

'How goes it with the religious houses?' Anne asked.

'Well, although Cromwell is still against your idea to put them to good use,' Henry replied.

'Do you agree with him?' Anne asked concerned.

'No, I believe you are right, however I worry that my country will be forever split over religious values,' henry replied.

'We all believe in God Henry,' Anne replied, 'and England has always been proud and patriotic of things that come from our land, when word spreads of English translations and English teachings of the bible, instead of listening to corrupt old men, I am sure that Lutheranism will become the main religion here.'

'And when other countries take issue with that?' Henry asked concerned.

'What happens here is nothing to do with anyone else,' Anne replied.

'Not when my daughter is of Spanish royal blood,' Henry replied.

'Then marry her off to a Spanish lord,' Anne replied thinking that it was time Mary was married, and having her married to a Spaniard would mean that she would have to leave England for good. It would solve a lot of problems.

'But I love her, and I hope one day we can be reconciled, I don't want her to be so far away,' Henry replied. He was angry with his daughter, for hurting Anne and disobeying him, but he had delayed finding Mary a suitable husband, he knew that she would object to anyone but a Spanish Catholic, and although he could force her, he knew that doing so would push her further away.

'I know,' Anne said, she sympathised she really did, but she didn't think Mary was going to be reconciled unless she was buried six feet underground.

'There's also our children to worry about, and their future, what if no Prince or Princess will marry them because of their differing beliefs, what if we are isolated from the rest of the world?' Henry asked.

These were fears he never voiced to anyone but Anne, not even Cromwell or his closest advisors. He could trust Anne to hear his fear and not see him as weak, but to listen and support him, reassure him that he had made the right choice. He knew he had of course, his and Anne's love was a gift from God, and the child in her stomach was proof that this was a blessed union. However he worried for England, and he worried that his choices could affect the lives of so many. Was he selfish when he chose Anne above anything else? He supposed he was, but he truly believed that this was in England's best interest.

'Our children, will be just that, children. When they are of marriageable age we will propose matches to whomever we see fit, if no foreign royalty will have them then they will marry here in England, and to be honest I would prefer that they did that,' Anne said, 'All of Europe is full of marriages from intercountry and it creates dissonance and discord between the couple and in their country. Francis has just married the Emperor's sister, and the France hates it. And that's just an example, people will always question Mary's loyalty, whether it is for Spain, or for England, no one will question _our_ child's loyalty, for they will be of pure English blood and the people will rejoice in that.'

'Of course you are right my love,' Henry kissed her forehead thanking God for sending him such a beautiful clever wife.

'Of course I am,' Anne smiled cheekily.

Henry rubbed her stomach again, she was so beautiful like this. Anne was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen of course, but pregnant she appeared to him as if she was a goddess of fertility and beauty. She was everything a man could wish for in a wife.

Men usually favoured women who knew little, spoke little, and were able to breed. But Henry knew he had found perfection. Anne was smart, smarter than him if he was being honest. She was quick witted with a keen intelligence in subjects that most women were not. Her knowledge of philosophy, history and the written word were astounding. She could speak and write in more languages than him and her talents in dancing and music were the best he had ever seen. What man wanted a simpering dull lifeless woman with no character, when they could have the passion and the glory that was Anne? She was all fiery passion and dark allurements and exotic looks, she enticed him and bewitched him in a way no woman ever had and would ever do again. Perhaps More was right when he had said that girls should be educated, especially if they had the potential that Anne did. He would forever be thankful that Boleyn had chosen to educate his daughter with best tutors. He vowed that he would do the same for his future daughters as it was far too late with Mary. She had been given an education that was better than the common woman, she could read and write and she spoke Latin and Spanish. She could dance and sew, but that was where her talents ended, she had no remarkable intelligence that Anne had. Perhaps she would have if she had the same access to education that Anne had been allowed.

'I wanted to talk to you about my lying in,' Anne said.

'What of it?' Henry asked.

'I don't want to be shut away in the dark on my own,' Anne replied.

The custom was that No men were allowed in this private room, or rooms, and Anne would only be attended to by other women. Anne's rooms would be closed off and tapestries would be hung over the windows to block out as much light from the outside world as possible. Only a small amount of light would be available to her as it was believed that too much light could damage the expectant mother's eyes. Her room be hung with calming tapestries and images as not to upset her, which could in turn harm her unborn child. Crucifixes and other religious items would be kept within the room to provide spiritual support for Anne. The idea was to recreate the womb: warm, dark and quiet.

Anne knew it was a catholic tradition that was used throughout England, but Anne did not want it, she put no stock in superstition and a cramped dark room with no fresh air or light, she did not believe such conditions were good for anyone let alone pregnant lady.

'It is what is done my love,' Henry replied.

'It is what is done in Catholicism,' Anne replied.

'True,' Henry replied doubtfully.

'Katherine used the same tradition for every pregnancy and only one was successful, I do not think it is healthy or wise to be shut away like a criminal,' Anne replied.

'If that is what you want sweetheart,' Henry said unable to deny her anything.

'You have to come and visit me too,' Anne said grasping his hands and appearing worried.

'Men have no place in a birthing chamber,' Henry said.

'I'm not asking you to be there as I birth our child, I'm asking you to support me and keep me company up until that point,' Anne said, 'I will miss you so much Henry, and I will wonder what you are doing without me.'

Henry turned towards her abruptly and framed her face in his hands, 'You have no need to worry that I will stray and take a mistress Anne,' Henry said horrified that she would think any woman could take her place. He was much accustomed to abstaining throughout the years and he would wait a few more months.

Anne smiled and leant forwards to kiss him, 'That's not what I meant my love,'

'Oh,' Henry smiled relieved, 'then what did you mean?'

'I love being with you Henry, I love your company and spending the days with you, I do not want to be without you,' Anne replied.

'Nothing will keep me away,' Henry smiled and kissed the tip of her nose and stared lovingly into her blue eyes.

If Anne wanted to defy a Catholic tradition and keep him by her side then he would do so. He could see her points were valid, and she was also the Queen of England, she could chose to give birth to their heir in any way that she chose. Nothing would ever be too much for her.

* * *

 **Just a filler until the next chapter, which is the one we've all been waiting for!**

 **Please Review!**


	23. Chapter 23

**This was a mammoth of a chapter and it needed to be right, hence the wait.**

* * *

 _"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you_

 _. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(_ _Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Anne was rather sick of seeing her chambers every day. Henry had allowed her to do away with the typical traditions of a lying in, agreeing with her that light, and fresh air and calm surrounding were better than the dark suffocating traditions of the catholic lying in. But nonetheless she was still stuck in her rooms, and was rather bored of her surroundings.

Henry came to see her every spare moment he had, and he spent every night holding her in his arms with one hand placed protectively over her stomach. Her brother came with all the gossip from court and Mary and Nan kept her active with a needle and the latest books, but she was an active person and she longed for the outdoors. She consoled herself that it would not be long before she would be able to go outside, and by then she would have a son or a daughter to take with her.

She smiled to herself and placed her hand on her stomach delighting in the feel of her unborn child kicking. The midwives had told her that most mother's had a feeling towards the gender, but Anne had no such feelings, after the reassurances from Henry concerning the gender, Anne would be happy if the child was healthy. Having a healthy child would be a step further then what Katherine had achieved. All her children were born dead or had miscarried. Even Mary had been a sickly child prone to weakness and illness.

Anne and Henry, and indeed most of England now all believed that this was due to God's displeasure with the sin of their marriage, and the obvious disinterest that Katherine took in her health and that of her body, believing absurdly that by causing herself pain and fasting minimally she would be closer to God. Perhaps she had been trying to absolve herself of the sin of marrying her husband's brother…whatever the reason, her actions had done serious harm to herself and her unborn children. Anne however was determined to keep herself happy and healthy and would be very proud to have a strong child that would do both her and Henry proud.

She was also looking forward to birthing her child for other reasons. Due to her pregnancy she and Henry had been unable to consummate their marriage, and she knew that Henry was desperate to finally be able to take her to bed properly, not like their lustful romp in the woods. Anne had begged God for forgiveness for the unlawful act, but hoped that he looked kindly on them, as Katherine was not Henry's true wife, and they had waited for _so long_. He must have forgiven them, and indeed blessed them for their actions as the miracle of life now resided in her womb.

Their first interaction had not been terribly pleasant for Anne. She had heard from her sister of the joys of pleasure and listened to her experience in pleasuring her husband, a fact that she did not resent her for. Mary had been just another pawn in their father's game, and she had suffered for it, bedding men she had no feelings for, and forgoing any meaningful relationship with any other prospect suitor. Anne had tried to please him that first time, but it was cold and she was overcome, his initial thrust into her had been painful, and he had not waited, instead pulling her down to the cold ground and pulling her on top of him. She had tried to move in the ways her sister had told her men found pleasurable, and for a while it was quite pleasant, but again Henry was overcome and had taken, over thrusting harshly into her, and she had groaned slightly in pain.

She could not regret it, as it had given them the life that was in her womb. But she had wished it had been different. She knew Henry was ashamed and had often begged her forgiveness. But she had assured him plenty of times that it had been consensual and she had been just as desperate to prove to him her love as he had. The execution might have been slightly painful but the emotion and the feeling had been there. She was ready and willing to try again and she trusted that Henry would show her the delights that could be found in their love. But again they found themselves waiting, however, at least the reasons were much more pleasant and joyful than waiting on Rome and Katherine to annul the marriage.

Anne was a few weeks from being full term, and she knew she could wait a little longer to have the miracle of life in her arms, but she an impatient creature and the wait was making her twitch slightly. To make matters worse Henry had been organising events and parties in her honour to which she couldn't even attend. She knew that it gave the people and the court entertainment and divergence from the daily burdens of life, but she was jealous and wanted to join in, after all the events _were_ for her and her pregnancy. But she kept silent and told herself to stop being spiteful and selfish and to be happy with the way things were. She was about to become a mother, a mother to England's heirs, she and Henry were about to become a real family, and she would not trade a thousand tournaments and events for that.

Henry entered her rooms at that moment, resplendent in his jousting armour and a full smile on his face. Anne rose hesitatingly to meet him, mindful of her extra weight. Her ladies curtsied around her and she would have also if not for her lack of grace and balance in her condition, a situation she found bizarre as those were traits that had always come easily to her.

'My poor sweetheart,' Henry teased pulling her gently towards him and kissing her soundly and running a gloved hand over her cheek.

'You're having a joust?' Anne pouted and Henry laughed.

'In your name my love,' Henry replied.

'I wish I could be there,' Anne replied.

'I do too, but the people deserve to know how much I want to honour you, and how much I love you for the gift you will give me,' Henry replied.

'How can I be unhappy when you put it that way?' Anne smirked back.

Henry laughed again and took her hands in his, 'The palace will be empty for a few hours and you will have all the peace and quiet that you need.'

'I rather wish that the peace and quiet was all over with,' Anne laughed back at him.

'Soon my love, soon,' Henry said.

'Will you at east wear my favour whilst you ride?' Anne asked.

'Of course!' Henry said, 'It was the reason I came here, I cannot joust in your name without at least having my fair lady's favour to wish me luck.'

Anne smiled and removed a purple embroidered ribbon from her wrist and tucked it lovingly into the corner of his breastplate and leaned up to kiss her husband lightly.

'Be safe,' Anne admonished him slightly, knowing that Henry was very competitive and would no doubt risk life and limb in order to emerge victorious.

'Of course my love,' Henry replied sombrely.

Before he would have risked all for victory and to prove to his country that he was healthy and athletic, that their king was in fine form. But now Henry had something important to return to and he had to remind himself that these were just games now, and that the serious things in life, like Anne and his unborn child were what was important. And that coming home in one piece was what mattered!

'I love you,' Anne replied feeling emotion swell up inside of her.

She had been much the same for the duration of her pregnancy. Prone to emotional outbursts of joy and sadness that had left her poor husband baffled at times. Linacre had assured them that it was normal and they had taken her unaccountable mood swings in stride.

'I love you too,' Henry replied and kissed her before placing a loving hand on her stomach 'both of you.'

She kissed him one more time then watched him leave her chambers for the joust. Most of her ladies left also to watch the games. And Anne kept only Nan with her and her faithful Arabella who was lounging on a pillow on the floor in front of the bed as if she was the Queen herself, though she kept a watchful eye on her mistress.

'Don't worry my lady, his majesty is a fine rider,' Nan comforted her.

'I know, I just miss him when he is gone,' Anne replied, then smiled and settled into her lounge chair and picked dup her needlework to occupy herself, and tried not to think of the joy and entertainment the court was having without her.

* * *

Anne's father, Thomas Boleyn had not gone outside for the entertainment today. He was a fine jouster himself, and still an able athletic man despite his age, but he did not like the idea of Anne being alone in Whitehall. The servants were still here of course, going about their chores, but it was distinctly quiet when the majority of the court were out of the building.

He would not impose himself on his daughter however, he knew she would not welcome him if he announced himself at her rooms. Anne was in her last month or so of pregnancy, and as such needed peace and quiet. Her relationship with him was still strained and Thomas could not blame her for it.

When he had first heard that Anne had spent the night in the King's rooms he had been furious with her. All their hard work had been for nothing. Thomas had seen countless times the way his majesty would jump from woman to woman, bedding whoever took his fancy.

He had been sure that Mary, carefree and experienced in the arts of pleasure would have kept his interest, but she had only held it for a few months. Mary was a pretty girl, if a bit airheaded and from a young age he had decided that the best way to seek advancement through her would be through married men. Men in loveless and arranged marriages always sought the company of beautiful women, he had made sure she had learnt the art of seduction well, and her infamous relationship with King Francis had improved his status readily.

As for Anne, his plans for her had been very different. From a young age Anne had showed him that she had a very keen mind. She learnt to read, write and speak well before the normal years. Her eyes held a keen intelligence and Thomas had immediately sought to encourage that. It was hardly the norm or considered right to educate girls as much as he did Anne, but the rewards greatly outmatched the confusion and disapproval he received for doing so.

Anne had blossomed, she learnt astoundingly quickly, she soaked up all the knowledge her tutors gave her, languages were her forte and she spoke, French, Spanish and Latin very easily and with a perfect accent. Her father schooled her himself in politics and influence and taught her how to scheme in a way. He taught her how to observe, how to manipulate and when to give her opinions to full effect. What he hadn't counted on however, was for her beauty to become as astounding as it was. Perhaps in her younger years Mary had been considered the prettier child. But upon turning thirteen Anne had blossomed. Her once too large eyes now fit into her face, her cheekbones which had once protruded too sharply, elegantly accentuated her face. Her lips were full and she had beautiful white straight teeth. Her hair was envied by many. Many an English rose with their fair complexion and fair hair stared at her with envious looks. For Anne became their opposite. She was dark where they were light, she was mysterious where they were plain. Many a man had sought her attentions but Anne discouraged them all, much too interested in her studies and Boleyn approved of this. Anne was too fine to be given away to a lowly man, but she need elevating more, she needed to be desired, when Wyatt had become obsessed with her, he did nothing to discourage it. The man was writing verses about her, which he recited to others, her beauty and character became envious of many and Thomas knew from then on that his daughter was destined for greatness.

He had believed, when she had slept with the King that she had ruined it all. He would tire of her, and she would never become Queen, and it would all have been for nothing. But what he hadn't counted on was his majesty falling in love that deeply. Infatuation he was sure about, obsession definitely, but true deep abiding love, he did not believe the King could possess, other than for himself. But surprise him he did, and annoyingly Anne had fallen just as hard.

It was a shame he only realised this after the thorough beating the King had given him. He had never hit his children before, they were well behaved and dutiful, he had not known what had come over him, but seeing her dressed in such a wanton way, hearing that she had slept in the King's chambers had filled him with rage. Anne was supposed to be different! She was supposed to be smart, instead she had behaved like any loose girl and thrown it all away. He had insulted her mother and Anne's temper had flared, he had been unable to stop his hand from slapping his cheek.

Elizabeth Howard, was a beautiful meek woman, thoroughly boring in every way other than her name. She had loved him however, deeply and truly, and this worked to his advancement. He felt nothing for her, and admittedly he used her. He broke her with his disinterest. He knew of her affairs, her pitiful attempts to make him jealous, to spurn him to passion. But her attempts failed. He kept a close eye on her affairs and had her ladies tell him of her courses, so he knew when was the best time to get her pregnant ensuring that her lovers would not father children off of her. When George had been born he had been satisfied, with his family and had turned her back to her lovers. He had confused and manipulated her, showering her with affection to coax her into his bed to impregnate her and then turn her away afterwards. The inconsistent affection played with her mind and her health and she had gradually succumbed to depression and eventually death. Mary and George were not intelligent enough to understand, but Anne, Anne had known, Anne had watched him with those knowing eyes as he destroyed her mother. She didn't say anything, as was her place, but he could see the resentment and the distrust that had been there afterwards.

When he had tasked her with seducing the King, he had been sure she would be angry and would refuse him. But after little persuasion she agreed. She was smart and she saw the advantages, she had realised that if she became Queen, she would answer to no one but her husband. She would be free of him. What he hadn't counted on was her loyalty and love moving so deeply and completely to the King.

His anger and his resentment of her had worked its way up. He had believed that she had got to her position because of him when in reality it had been anything but. Anne was Queen because of herself, because she was beautiful, because she was intelligent, and because she was her own woman.

As he had sat in his chambers banished from court, Thomas had a lot of time to think. The pure anger and loathing on the King's face as he beat him so thoroughly, and then the love he had shown Anne afterwards astounded him. He was devoted to her, and in that instant he saw that the King was a far better man than him. He had his faults of course, but he treated Anne as the gift she was, he loved her with a devotion he had never seen, nor felt himself.

He could have had that with Elizabeth, but he was vain and ambitious and his search for power clouded his judgment. He inadvertently killed his wife and his children had grown away from him. Mary now lived in one of his small estates, alone and unloved, for she could no longer stand the words people spoke of her. It was horrible that such a pretty lively girl had to hide from the world.

George was not as clever as he should have been, he had spent too much time and money on his daughters, and the poor boy had not complained about this. George loved his sisters devotedly, and was glad that his sisters were given skills and education that was so rare to receive anywhere else. He had gladly stood aside for them as no other man would have. He had been neglected and was not as respected as he should have been.

And Anne had lost all her respect and love for him, she was far too intelligent not too. She saw as her siblings didn't and had to be outraged on their behalf, when they were too blind to see it, for she would not open their eyes. She firmly believed that ignorance was bliss, and allowed them to respect and love their father. But she had known, she had seen, and she had firmly denounced him.

The months of his absence and the time alone with his thoughts had changed him. He visited his wife's grave and he mourned for what could have been, he apologised and laid flowers. He gave much of his pension to Mary so she could live in comfort, even though she had now agreed to be one of Anne's ladies throughout her pregnancy. He spent more time with his son subtly teaching him as he had once Anne. And although he lacked Anne's natural abilities, he was pleased that his son was learning.

He had left Anne too many times for his own advancement and now he wouldn't, he would look out for her as a silent protector and would allow no harm to come near her ever again, not from him or anyone. So he patrolled the corridors and kept himself nearby, just in case.

* * *

Brereton knew it was now or never, he had spoken to Chapuys and they had agreed on a plan, today was the day. The King was at the joust and security was minimal. Chapuys had promised him asylum in Spain, and the Pope himself would come and reward him, for his efforts. He would rid Europe of the plague of Lutheranism and stop England in its tracks of falling to Satan. But this act of violence had to be done in order for it happen. He reminded himself that any day now the witch could go into labour and give birth to Satan's spawn, and he must stop it from happening.

He was loathed to kill a child but reminded himself that he was killing the witch, he wouldn't touch her stomach, if Satan had the power to save the spawn then he would, but he had to believe that God would not abandon him.

He knelt at his makeshift altar and crossed himself, before rising and donning his servant uniform, as the Kings valet and now in the witch's service he had been given unlimited access to her person, but annoyingly she had always been surrounded by others and hardly left alone. He had bided his time and performed his duties and smiled dutifully at the whore whilst inside he was burning with God's wrath. His retribution was coming, and he would enforce it.

He took a deep breath in and rolled his shoulders. He had pleaded illness today to avoid going to the joust and the King had bid him stay at Whitehall. But Anne was unware of this fact, she would think that he was serving the King, and therefore his plan was full proof.

Reaching for the dagger on the table he lifted it and rolled up the sleeve to his uniform. Reciting his prayers he dug the knife into his arm and pulled, creating a deep gash and watched as blood pooled at the wound. He disregarded the pain as the sacrifice he would make to achieve his task and reminded himself that Jesus Christ had sacrificed himself for the good of mankind. He would follow in his footsteps as a servant of God.

Focusing on the task, he coated his hands in the blood from his arm and put a little bit onto his face, then covered his wound and stood up straight. He was in the King's chambers which were empty, and made sure everything was ready for the witch's arrival. Accepting that everything was in order he took another deep breath and made his way towards the false Queen's apartments.

* * *

Anne was bored again, her needlework had not held her attention for long, and she was feeling restless, her child was obviously picking up on her mood for she felt it kicking her insides in protest of its cramped living space. The child obviously wanted out and Anne was inclined to agree.

Suddenly a bizarre sensation swept through her body, and she felt wetness pool down her dress and legs. Embarrassment swept through her as she thought that she had soiled herself, but then she felt a twinge of pain and she quickly alerted Nan.

'Nan!' she exclaimed.

Nan turned and looked towards her Queen and was shocked to see that a small pool of fluid was at the bottom of her dress, and her dress was wet. Astonished she quickly rushed to her mistress and assured her it was alright.

'I'm sorry!' Anne exclaimed embarrassed.

'It's perfectly normal your majesty,' Nan said rubbing her arms soothingly.

'Ah,' Anne cried out hunching over her stomach.

'I think I'm in labour,' Anne whispered, raising terrified eyes to Nan.

'But it's another month away,' Nan replied frightened.

Anne forced herself to be calm, and took a deep breath, the pain was gone for now and she could focus her mind.

'Nan you must fetch the midwives and inform the King,' she instructed.

'But he's at the joust!' Nan exclaimed knowing it would take her nearly a full hour to get there and then time to find the right people and then time to get back. She was beginning to panic.

'Nan, listen to me, this is what we're going to do, you're going to help me change into some dry clothes, and then you're going to go for help,' Anne said keeping her voice soothing.

'Yes my lady,' Nan replied, nodding, pleased that Anne was taking charge despite her being in labour.

'But you'll be here alone,' Nan said.

'Arabella will be here,' Anne said smiling, trying to appear confident despite the situation.

'What if…' Nan started but Anne cut her off unable to think about the ifs right now.

'Nan, you are my most trusted friend and servant, I know you won't let me down,' Anne said and grasped her hands and brought them to her lips in a sweet kiss.

Nan gasped and blinked back tears at the faith her mistress showed in her. Nodding she held her head high, and helped Anne to the bed, she quickly undressed her and helped her into her nightgown and drew back the covers, calling for Arabella she smiled as the great beast walloped over and leapt onto the bottom of the bed and curled up.

'See,' Anne laughed, 'She will look after me.'

'I will be back soon your majesty,' Nan said, and then with a quick curtsey, she turned and ran from the room refusing to look back.

* * *

Brereton watched as one of the whore's ladies ran out of her chambers and he quickly hid in an alcove as he watched the frantic lady hurry away. He smiled and thought that it was one less problem to worry about, and at least she would be given a chance to see God's truth. Waiting a suitable time for her to leave he turned and walked swiftly towards her chambers.

Nan had been gone for about fifteen minutes, and Anne was keeping calm, she rhythmically stroked Arabella's fur and breathed deeply keeping herself calm, she knew it was key in protecting both herself and her child. Her child that would be with her soon. She was excited but nervous, her labour was short of a month early, and she knew that most women never experienced an easy birth. Mother's died, and infants died as well. But she was determined to remain positive.

* * *

Anne heard the doors to her chamber open, and she was curious as Nan couldn't be back yet.

'My Queen, my Queen!' Mr Brereton, Henry's valet and Anne's servant ran into her chamber.

Anne gasped and sat up and Arabella growled from the bed.

'William what happened?!' she exclaimed astonished at the man's appearance, he was covered in blood, on his hands and some on his face and he had a frightened terrified expression on his face.

'The King…he…he…' he stuttered and looked on the verge of crying.

Anne gasped and leapt out of bed despite the pains she was feeling again.

'Is he dead?' Anne asked, crying and shaking in fear. Henry had assured her the joust was safe, it was just a bit of fun to honour his Queen. But accidents happened and had happened in the past.

'You must come my lady, you must come,' he turned and he ran out of her chambers.

Anne didn't stop to think, she didn't stop to consider, she took off after him with Arabella barking at her heels. She ran the short distance through the corridor not noticing that they were bare, if the King had been injured they would have been full with people. But in her worry and her distress she did not notice.

She raced into the King's chambers through the open door and heard it slam behind her.

'Henry!' she called out in distress, but suddenly realised that no one was in the room.

She turned quickly and saw that Arabella had not made it into the room with her and was barking and scratching at the closed door. She watched in horror and confusion as Brereton locked it and threw the key into a shadowed corner.

'William what is going on? Where is the king?' Anne asked trying to sound confident.

William's face was devoid of the usual smile and gentle eyes she had seen in him before. Now his face was twisted in a harsh glare and his eyes burned with a hatred she had never seen before.

'I demand you answer me sir!' Anne yelled now, when he did not answer.

Brereton walked away from her calmly and reached for the rope he had left in his master's chamber earlier. He had decided that he wanted to strangle her, he wanted to feel the life leave her, watch as her life left her eyes and she descended to the darkest reaches of hell.

Turning towards her, he walked towards her smirking when she backed hastily away.

'You will pay for your sins tonight,' he whispered quietly at her.

'William you are scaring me,' Anne said, putting a table between her and him.

'You must pay for your sins,' he repeated.

Anne realised the man was crazed and tried not to give way to hysteria, Nan was coming, help was coming, she had to stall him.

'What sins?' Anne pleaded.

'You have bewitched the King, brought heresy to this country and banished a good woman and the rightful Queen of England,' He replied steadily rounding the table.

Anne moved round with him, and tried to fight the panic that was rising from her.

'I am a good person, I am no witch William, put down the rope and we can talk about this, let me help you,' Anne tried smiling at him with her beautiful smile hoping to charm him.

'That won't work on me she witch,' William replied.

'Please, I am in labour, you will kill my child, the King's child!' Anne replied.

'I will kill you, and I will leave for Spain and be saved and revered by God's true people, if help reaches you in time, perhaps they can cut the devil spawn out of you before it dies as well, but I doubt it for God is on my side.' He replied.

'Please, you mustn't!' Anne cried and felt ashamed of herself as she felt tears run down her face.

She was the Queen of England and she was carrying the King's heir, she would do everything in her power to protect the life inside her. Looking around her quickly for a weapon, she saw Henry's paper weight on the table and reached for it.

Suddenly though William leaned back and kicked the table pushing it into her stomach. Yelling in pain she gasped and fell back the weight falling out of her hand. She tried pulling herself to her feet, but another wave of labour pain hit her, it was stronger than the one before and she cried out and clutched at her stomach.

William smirked and grabbed at the whore's hair and wrenched it backwards causing her to howl in agony. The sounds were music to his ears, and he felt warmth rush through him as he relished in the pleasure of delivering God's justice. Dragging her back by her hair he pulled her to an empty space the rope in his other hand.

He kicked her back and forced her down away from him with her head bowed. She screamed in agony, and he didn't know if he had kicked too hard or if the pain of childbirth was starting to get to her.

He didn't care.

Looping the rope he placed it around her neck though he kept it loose.

'Please, please please!' Anne screamed, she could hear Arabella barking and scratching determined to help her mistress. But she knew that even her beloved mastiff was not powerful enough to break the locked door.

'HENRY!' she called out despair flying through her as she felt the rope on her neck.

She couldn't fight back, she was immobilised by the pain of her child birth. They were coming quicker and stronger and she couldn't look past them to try and fight him off. She was so weak, she was going to die, and her child with her. She had failed Henry utterly.

'Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you,' he quoted at her and all she could do was cry out as pain erupted in her stomach.

'You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father's desires.' He whispered again at her. So calm in the act of murdering her.

Finally he was ready, he took a deep breath and pulled on the rope.

* * *

Thomas Boleyn watched as lady Saville one of Anne's ladies flew through the great hall and out of the doors, she was running very quickly and she did not see him. He frowned in confusion. Who was with Anne if Lady Saville was not there? He was going to dismiss it, perhaps she had forgotten an important duty and was anxious to correct her mistake. However something made him stop, he had a feeling, he didn't know how or why but somehow he knew that Anne was in danger. Turning he ran to her quarters.

He arrived quickly and broke through the door.

'Anne!' he yelled.

There was no reply and no sign of her.

Frustrated he turned and left and kicked the wall of the corridor in frustration.

Where was she?!

A sound came towards him then through the echoing corridors, he could hear a dog barking, a deep ferocious sound, that did not stop.

Arabella!

Turning he ran swiftly and followed the sound of Arabella quickly coming to the King's chambers. Arabella took no notice of him and carried on scratching at the door. He tried the handle but found it locked.

He heard a crash and a shout of pain from inside and his whole body went cold in fear.

That was Anne, she was in danger.

He could hear her screaming.

Stepping backwards he gave himself enough room and then struck out with his foot and struck at the door with all his weight. The door rattled but did not move, Arabella carried on barking.

He struck again and again but still the door would not shift.

Anne screamed again. And his heart was thudding. Stepping backwards he closed his eyes, and pictured his daughter, his beautiful clever little girl, who he should have treasured. He would not fail her.

He opened his eyes in determination and kicked again.

* * *

Nan was running and could feel the strain in her chest but she did not slow and she did not despair, for she was determined in her task, she was through the gates and she was running towards the military fields where The King had his jousting matches and archery practices.

Suddenly in front of her she saw a group of people heading her way and she cried out as she recognised the King's banner. Calling out in relief she put on a burst of speed her skirts flying and ran towards them.

The guards were alarmed as a well-dressed lady ran towards their King, her hair had fallen out and her skirts were up around her knees. She appeared like a crazy thing and they quickly stood in front of the King who was making his way back to Whitehall with a laughing Anthony in tow.

'Your majesty!' Nan called out frustrated that the guards stopped her progress.

Henry turned quickly and looked in astonishment as Anne's most reliable lady in waiting was being restrained by one his guards.

'Release her!' He called out, and the guards wearily let her go.

Nan ran forward, and Henry caught her arms to steady herself.

'What is sit mistress Saville?' Henry said.

'The Queen…' Nan stuttered through fast breathing as she tried to catch her breath.

'What has happened?' The King shook her gently.

'She is in labour,' Nan sputtered.

A giant smile came across Henry's face as the men around him cheered, but suddenly he realised why Nan had rushed here. Anne was on her own, it was too soon, and none of her ladies were with her. Luckily Linacre had accompanied Henry back towards Whitehall, embarrassingly he had lost the first round of the joust and had fallen. He had been too preoccupied thinking about Anne and had lost to George Boleyn easily. He had laughed and encouraged his brother in law to go on and win in Anne's name. He had been happy to go back to Anne, but Linacre had accompanied him after his fall, just to be safe.

'Nan, you must go and fetch Anne's ladies and midwives, especially her sister, she will want them there!' Henry ordered and watched as the poor lady took off running again in the direction of the joust.

Henry quickly mounted his horse and turned to Linacre.

'The Queen is alone and in labour!' He told him.

Anthony answered for the doctor and quickly helped the aging man onto his own horse.

'Thank you Anthony,' Henry replied.

'Go Henry, everything will be alright!' he replied.

Henry turned and kicked his horse into a fast gallop and heard the aging doctor follow at a steadier pace. Anthony broke into a run after them.

* * *

Anne couldn't breathe, couldn't move from the pain in her neck and stomach. The rope burned her neck and her hand clutched at it trying to lessen the pressure. It was no use, she was dying, and she couldn't get any air into her body. It felt awful, the worst sought of suffocating sensation she had ever felt before.

Tears streamed out of her eyes, and she clutched at her unborn child in her stomach. Perhaps Brereton was right, perhaps help would arrive and her baby would be safe. That was all she could hope for. She thought of Henry and her love for him, and silently wished him goodbye as her eyes began to darken.

Suddenly an almighty crash sounded and the rope lessened. She fell to the floor and pushed away the rope scrambling backwards and heaving great breaths of air into her lungs, however her throat was swollen and she still struggled to breathe. Another wave of pain came through her stomach and pelvis, and she tried to scream out the pain but she couldn't, it was madness, she was in so much pain and needed an outlet, but her body couldn't cooperate with her. She couldn't breathe, the pain was overwhelming.

Anne lost control.

Brereton turned at the sound of the crash and turned alarmed eyes as he saw the door to the King's chambers burst open off of its hinges. He tugged the dagger out of his belt and turned to face the people who had disturbed him and who had ruined God's work.

He nearly screamed as a great big beast jumped into the room, its muscles bulging as it galloped towards him teeth bared and a feral snarl on its face. Diving to the side he leapt out of the animal's way and tried to turn, but yelled out as the beast attached itself to his leg and shook its mighty jaws tearing at his skin.

He screamed out in pain, but pain was nothing he wasn't used to. Clenching his dagger he sat up and thrust it deep into the dog's side smiling in satisfaction as the bitch yowled and whimpered and backed away in pain and fell to the side.

'NO!' a voice rang out, and he jumped to his feet removing his sword from his belt. He had made sure he had been properly prepared for the event.

The whore's father ran into the room, and took in the scene.

Thomas screamed in outrage as he watched the bastard plunge his knife into Arabella, his gaze fell to Anne who was thrashing on the floor her mouth open in a silent scream. He saw the marks on her neck and he saw red.

He ran at Brereton who he realised was the King's servant the one who he had suspected of plotting against Anne before, and withdrew his sword. He struck at his face but the servant parried the blow and attacked back in a series of astonishing blows. Thomas knew he was outclassed, the servant was stronger, younger and faster. But Thomas tried anyway. He would do anything to save his child, anything.

He pushed back with all his might and managed to corner the whoreson against the wall, but the man parried and with a brilliant flick of the wrist brought his arm round and swiftly disarmed him, and plunged his own sword into his stomach.

Thomas Boleyn dropped to his knees as the sword left his gut and he felt pain like nothing he had ever felt flare through him. He had failed his daughter again. He fell backwards and groaned in agony. He could see Anne from his place on the King's floor, he could see her shaking in pain, but her eyes were on him.

'Papa,' she mouthed at him and held a shaking hand out to him in a silent plea for help.

Never had Thomas Boleyn felt such a wave of despair and hopelessness overwhelm him. He was dying and his daughter and her unborn child was going to be murdered. He watched as Brereton turned disinterested eyes from him and walked towards Anne again.

Thomas helplessly crawled after him as Anne rolled around in silent agony.

Picking up the rope from the floor he grasped Anne by the hair again and pulled her thrashing body upwards. She was half dead already and would not take much more to finish off. He looped the rope again and went to place it over her neck.

* * *

Henry raced towards Whitehall and urged his horse towards the main gates. He dismounted quickly not caring to tie his horse up and ran through the great hall and into its side chambers heading for the royal quarters. He knew Linacre would be following him albeit at a slower pace, but he did not wait for the old man.

He was nearing his chambers and was about to run past them to Anne's when he heard sounds of a fight emanating from his rooms. He heard a man yell out, and he quickly turned onto his chambers and found the door had been kicked down.

He raced into the rooms and screamed in outrage.

Arabella lay dead near his bed a dagger protruding from her stomach. Thomas Boleyn lay in pool of his own blood, alive but slowly dying and was trying to crawl forwards.

He turned and what he saw horrified him. Anne was screaming in silent agony, and his own valet had her in a chokehold with a rope around her neck. He saw red and he screamed out loud in outrage.

Brereton looked up in frustration as he heard a new voice, it was the King.

He dropped the rope in shock and heard the whore collapse to the ground.

'WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!'

'Your majesty, you must see reason,' Brereton said.

Henry had already heard enough and hurled himself at the man who didn't even try to fight back. He knew he had lost, and he could not kill the King of England.

Henry wrestled the man to the ground and attacked him, punching at his face and slamming his head against the floor. He had never felt such rage, his own servant was trying to kill his Queen, had killed her beloved dog and likely her father, and injured her severely whilst in labour.

'YOU BASTARD!' He screamed spittle flying everywhere.

Doctor Linacre entered the room and gasped in dismay, he saw two people who needed help. Thomas Boleyn lay bleeding watching as the King threw punches at William Brereton. The Queen was laying towards the other side and was thrashing in pain, he could see rope marks around her neck. He wished he could help both but knew his duty was towards the Queen.

'Help my daughter,' Boleyn croaked at him from where he lay bleeding but Linacre heard him over the King's enraged shouts.

Linacre rushed towards the Queen and restrained her flailing arms, her throat was restricted in getting air and she had no outlet for the enormous pain of child birth. He restrained her and made soothing noises and with his other hand raised her nightgown and inspected her. He was disturbed by the situation, the Queen of England was surrounded by men, on the floor, near to giving birth having just been attacked. It was not a normal birthing environment, but Linacre was an experienced doctor and he would have to make do.

He measured how much she had dilated and frowned as he realised she was fully stretched and ready to give birth. But the poor lady had no control, the pain had gotten to her, and she couldn't breathe enough to push. If he could not restrain her and calm her down, she would eventually pass out and she would most likely die.

'Your majesty!' he called out needing someone's help.

'Henry!' Boleyn tried where he lay groaning on the floor.

Both tried to get his attention but he was too preoccupied with destroying Brereton. Suddenly Sir Anthony burst into the chambers and gasped at the situation. Assessing quickly he ran to Henry and pulled the King off of the servant.

'HE'S TRYING TO KILL HER!' he screamed.

'Henry,' he yelled pulling him backwards.

'LET GO OF ME, HE MUST DIE!' He screamed.

'Henry she needs you!' Anthony said.

He calmed fractionally and turned towards Anne who was being checked by Linacre. She was clearly not alright, and Anthony had to adjust his gaze when he realised the lady was about to give birth, this was no place for a man.

'Anne?' Henry whispered brokenly towards her.

'You must help her,' Anthony told him.

'I want him dead,' Henry yelled through clenched teeth.

'He will die, but not yet, we need to know what he knows, I refuse to believe that a simple servant was behind all of this!' Anthony reasoned with him.

Henry stood and quickly made a decision already making his way to Anne but talking to Anthony.

'Find Cromwell, get this bastard in the tower, I want to know what he knows and who he is working with, and find a doctor for Boleyn, and find Anne's ladies!' he exclaimed.

Anthony hurried to obey sparing a pitying glance to Anne's father who lay dying on the floor, the pool of blood around him spreading.

'Anne my love,' Henry whispered clutching at her hand frantically.

Anne couldn't respond her throat was so swollen and he felt rage overtake him again but pushed it down and away.

'What do I do?' Henry moaned in distress, 'How can I help her?'

'You must be calm your majesty,' Linacre said from where he was feeling Anne's stomach.

'I shouldn't even be here!' Henry shouted frustrated and Anne rasped trying to talk but failed.

'Henry,' Linacre said astonishing the King at his informality, 'The Queen need's you, I need you.'

'Tell me what to do,' Henry replied confidently.

Suddenly he realised how dangerous the situation was, Anne was in danger, she could very easily die, and he was too busy hollering on in his anger, he had to concentrate and be there for her.

'You must find a way to relax her, and enable her to breathe as much as she can, she needs to find the strength to push,' Linacre said.

Henry slipped behind Anne and pulled her back to his chest, he gently rocked her back and forth and whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

'Anne, follow my breathing, listen to my heart beat,' Henry whispered into his struggling wife's ear.

'hh…hurts,' she strained.

'Breathe through your nose Anne, don't strain your voice, breathe and concentrate on my heartbeat,' he replied, soothingly rocking backwards and forwards whilst running his hands up and down her arms.

It took a few minutes but gradually Anne's struggling stopped, and she breathed deeply through her nose, her eyes closed as she listened to Henry's voice.

'I believe in you Anne, you can do this,' Henry said.

Anne wasn't so sure, she opened her eyes and surveyed the terrible scene before her. Doctor Linacre was between her legs when it should have been her ladies and her sister, her beloved dog lay dead a few feet away. She was on the cold floor, surrounded by destroyed furniture, and close by she could see her father gazing at her determinedly as he lay there dying.

'Papa,' she croaked.

'He'll be alright Anne,' Henry lied and Anne knew it. She struggled not to cry as this would distract her from her breathing.

'Anne my love,' Thomas said, from his place by the wall, he had managed to push himself into a sitting position and had his hand pressed against his wound. Hanging onto life, determined to see his daughter live through this.

'You can do this,' Thomas told her, eyes glistening with tears at his daughter's bravery.

'I need you to push your majesty, when the next pain comes, deep into your stomach, embrace the pain, do not fight it,' Linacre instructed.

Anne nodded in understanding and continued her breathing, feeling Henry rock her backwards and forwards and his soothing hands brushing back her hair and whispering his words of adoration upon her.

Anne felt it, the sudden excruciating pain as her child signalled to her body that it wanted out. She bore down as hard as she could breathing deeply through her nose. She didn't cry out because she couldn't, and instead embraced the pain and pushed through it clinging to Henry's hand. She was dizzy, the lack of oxygen making her had swim, but she was determined to bring this life into the world. She desperately wanted to make her father a grandfather before he died. Anne knew there was no hope for him.

'Good,' Linacre said as he watched the progress between her legs. Usually he stayed away from births, only entering in extreme circumstances. Childbirth was a woman's business, but he was proud to be helping this poor lady. He was not embarrassed or ashamed, he was in awe of the strong woman before him.

'Nearly there sweetheart,' Henry whispered to her, kissing her forehead.

He couldn't believe he was here. In all of Katherine's births he had waited in his own rooms for news, no way near the birthing room. It was all very secretive and mysterious, and he had liked it that way. But here he was now, with Anne, actually a part of the birth. He was with her, helping her, encouraging her and he felt bonded to her on a new profound level. He was so proud of her, she had managed to stay alive and keep their child safe through a debilitating attack. She was incredible.

He heard footsteps and looked up as Anne's ladies swept into the room and gasped upon seeing the situation. A barber surgeon hurrying behind them rushed to attend to Boleyn. The ladies stood perplexed and confused as to the proper procedure. Luckily Mary, took over, strong even in the face of her sister's attack and her father's imminent demise. She ordered for hot water and clean linen and ordered that poor Arabella be covered and removed quickly, she ordered for his majesty's bed to be turned down to receive Anne, and for a cot to be brought in for the new arrival. Henry was very grateful as his focus was on Anne.

Anne tried to ignore the hustle and bustle around her, as her ladies came in obviously doing their best to fix the situation. She turned her head as Arabella was covered up and removed and the blood washed away. She would grieve for her companion and loyal defender later. Feeling another pain coming towards her she pushed her feet into the floor and took a deep breath through her nose and pushed in absolute silence, so as not to strain her throat, if she fell into unconsciousness, it would risk her life and the baby's.

'Push Anne, Push!' Henry encouraged her.

Linacre reached between Anne's legs and pulled, and Anne let out a croak in discomfort but was hushed by Henry's soothing notions.

'One more your majesty,' Linacre said.

Anne opened her eyes and her gaze met that of her father's, as he was being tended to by the new doctor, however she knew it was pointless, and looking at him she could see that he knew it was as well. They stared into each other's eyes, and Anne felt all the love she had for her father flood herself again. He had sacrificed himself for her and her child. He _loved_ her, she could see it, she could see how sorry he was, and she forgave him. She nodded slightly at him and he smiled painfully back and Anne knew he understood.

The pain came back and she gave one more huge push her feet pushing into the cold stone floor, and she felt a flood of wetness as her child was removed from her body. Her eyes opened wide as she looked frantically at Linacre.

Linacre pulled the new-born from the Queen, and noticed straight away that the poor child was in shock and he hurriedly rubbed his hand up and down its back and delivered a sharp smack to its rump. The child finally filled it's lungs with air and wailed in distress at being brought into the world.

Henry heard the child cry and he closed his eyes in delight and kissed Anne's hair overwhelmed that Anne had succeeded. She was safe, and the child was alive.

'Your majesty has delivered of a healthy baby boy,' Linacre whispered.

Henry's head shot up his eyes wide and looked towards Linacre who was holding his new-born son up for him to see.

He was tiny and covered in bodily fluids but to Henry he was perfect. His miracle boy, who had come to be despite all the odds. Unconditional love filled him and he blinked back tears.

'Papa,' Anne croaked and Henry quickly looked down to Anne, who was pointing towards her dying father and he understood immediately.

'Mary!' Henry called and Mary was instantly by Linacre's side taking her nephew in her arms and wrapping him in a warm blanket.

'Show your father his grandchild,' Henry said, not minding at all that Boleyn would be the first he would be presented too.

The man had given his life for his wife and his son and he deserved to see him before he passed.

* * *

Mary walked carefully over to her dying father with tears in her eyes, she was so happy for Anne but devastated about how it had all come about and distraught that her father was dying.

'Papa,' she whispered, kneeling carefully next to her father ignoring the surgeon who was still trying to stop the bleeding.

Thomas Boleyn opened his eyes and fought off the darkness that was overtaking him to stare at his oldest child who was crouched next to him.

'Mary,' he whispered and reached a bloodied hand to touch her face gently.

'Look,' she whispered turning her bundle towards her father, 'Anne has delivered of a son, your first grandchild.'

The child had stopped crying and was curled up in his blanket his face partially obscured. Mary pulled the blanket away slightly, and very, very carefully placed the new-born in his grandfather's arms, helping to support the new-born's head in case he should drop the child through lack of strength.

Thomas stared down at his first grandchild in awe, he was so tiny. Here was Anne's son, the future King of England and he couldn't be prouder of Anne, of his whole family. He wished he could stay to watch the little infant before him grow up, but he knew Anne would do a brilliant job. And knew that Henry would be a far better father than he had been to his children.

'He's beautiful,' he whispered and painfully he bent and kissed his forehead, 'May God bless you.'

He withdrew and stared at the baby before him hoping that his life would be a happy one, slowly he felt his eyes drift shut and darkness pulled at his heart. He was going, he strained to catch one more glimpse of the beautiful baby before him but his body couldn't take any more, his arms slackened and Thomas Boleyn passed away.

Mary who was helping her father support the new-born prince felt when her father's arms slackened and his breath left him. She couldn't stop the tears from falling as she carefully removed the baby from his dead arms and held her nephew close to her. The doctor sat back in defeat and crossed himself and whispered a blessing to the poor man.

Mary turned and gave the child into the waiting arms of Nan Saville who cleaned him up and wrapped him in a new blanket. Mary went back to Anne's side.

'Papa is dead,' Mary whispered and kissed her sister's cheek, and watched as silent tears poured out of her eyes.

Henry kissed his wife's head again and then moved to a crouching position and lifted his cold wife into his arms and placed her gently on the bed. Linacre rushed to follow and made sure Anne was sat up rather than sat down, so as better to get air into her body, and he soaked bandages in a strange cold paste and wrapped them very lightly around the Queens neck. He examined her once more for signs of bleeding, the afterbirth having come away whilst Boleyn had held his grandson.

Henry sat next to her holding her hands anxious to see her well.

'Will she be alright?' Henry asked Linacre.

'She is strong your majesty, and hopefully the swelling will go down and she can begin to breathe normally again, she should refrain from speaking, or lying down for some time,' Linacre told him.

Henry nodded and looked at Anne who was still crying silently but she looked back at him and forced a smile, she motioned with her arms and Henry understood she wanted to hold their child. Grinning slightly Henry rose and walked towards the cot where his son lay.

He stared at the child in awe, he was so small, and beautiful, but he was strong, Henry knew it. How could he not be when he had overcome all the odds to be here? He was too young to make out any distinguishing features yet, but he had a tuft of dark hair on his head, and Henry knew he would look just like Anne, and thought it was very fitting.

Gently he lifted his boy into his arms and turned towards Anne who was staring at the now covered form of her father in grief. She smiled though as he came towards her and reached for her son. Henry placed him gently in his arms, and smiled as Anne hugged him towards her smelling his new baby-soft skin, and pressing kisses to his face.

'He's beautiful,' Henry said smiling, thinking there was nothing more beautiful than Anne holding their son.

Anne nodded in reply.

Henry wished he could ask her what to call him, but she couldn't reply and he felt a rise of fury overtake him as he realised Brereton had taken this from them. He had robbed Anne of the dignity of a normal childbirth, he had robbed her of her dog and her father, and he had never hated someone more.

Anne was exhausted but stayed awake to gaze into the eyes of her new-born son, her miracle child. He was beautiful, and tiny and perfect. She wished he had been delivered in different circumstances and not in distress. She wished she could speak to him and let her new born son hear the sound of his mother's voice but that monster had robbed her of the chance.

Succumbing to exhaustion she passed him back to Henry and settled back against the headboard annoyed that she couldn't lie down, but knowing that it didn't matter since she was that exhausted anyway.

Henry gently put his son back in the cot, and went back to Anne drawing the hangings around his bed so she could have some well-deserved privacy. He quickly ushered in his servants and even helped carry Thomas Boleyn out of the room himself. Anne's ladies righted the furniture and scrubbed the floors, and when he returned he could almost believe that nothing had happened, but he looked towards the crib where his new-born son lay resting, not knowing that he now shared his birthday with the day of his grandfather's death. Every year this day would be tainted for him and for Anne, and her family, and Henry urged the rage he felt back down.

Cromwell would be interrogating the beast right now, and he knew that eventually the man would succumb. He would find out who had dared to plot against his wife and son, and soon he would have his revenge. He would make them rue the day they ever set eyes on her, no matter who they were.

* * *

 **Well there you go, sorry it took so long, but was a huge chapter to write 10k+!.**

 **Plus it was a very important, chapter. It sets up the rest of the story; who is Brereton going to name as his co-conspirators? How will Henry react? What will they name their son? Review to find out!**


	24. Chapter 24

_"For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you_

 _. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Chapuys watched as Knivert accompanied by guards dragged the unconscious Brereton out of the King's chambers. He heard the screams coming from inside the King's chambers as the whore tried to cling to life, from his place hidden behind an alcove. He heard Knivert shout for Cromwell with a sinking heart. He knew that Cromwell had a strong background as a mercenary and was skilled in getting the truth from unwitting people. Perhaps Brereton would hold out for a time, but Chapuys was well aware of the many machinations of torture that Cromwell could use. He would speak, and when he did, doubtless his name would be mentioned.

His position was, then. Compromised. His head hit the wall as he leaned back and sighed, all the planning and plotting had been for nothing. Perhaps the whore would die in childbirth, and hopefully the bastard along with it. But Brereton would talk regardless and that would be the end of his chances to secure Mary's future.

Chapuys winced as he thought of her. Brereton was not an idiot, he was aware that the emperor favoured Mary for the throne, he was also probably aware that Mary knew of the plot against the harlot's life. If he mentioned her name she would be ruined. The King's wrath would not be quashed just because Mary was his daughter.

On the other hand Brereton might not mention her, perhaps he was unaware of her involvement and knowledge, but under the use of torture, he was sure that he would say anything to stop the pain.

He had to make a decision and he had to make it now. He had to flee, of that he had no doubt, to stay meant his death, just like Mendoza's. But he could not leave the Princess behind to suffer, he could pray that the King would have mercy on his daughter and leave her in England, or he could take her with him. The girl was like a daughter to him and he thought much of her, as did the Emperor, he could not bare to think that his King's family and blood could be harmed.

He thought of the true Queen, who was hidden away and oblivious to the drama that was now unfolding. Chapuys had made sure that she had known nothing, thinking that she had been hurt enough. He knew that she would bid him to keep her only daughter safe. But if he took her from England, her claim to the throne would weaken, she would be declared a traitor. But there was always the hope that God would render the King childless for abusing God and christianity, and in time Mary could come back to England and take her rightful place, and unite England with Spain as the Emperor longed for.

He made his decision.

He ran.

* * *

Cromwell hurried from his office towards the tower of London. He had been summoned by a flustered guard who had barged into his chambers. He had been working diligently on the reformation and had not attended the joust today. He had expected that the King would still be in attendance therefore he was able to concentrate on his work.

When the guard had barged in unannounced with a scared look on his face he had been sure that something had happened to the King. However when he spoke, he was shocked. The Queen was in labour and had been attacked. The attacker was one of the King's own servants and he was currently being dragged towards the Tower.

The King wanted him interrogated and Cromwell hurried to obey. If the man succeeded in killing the Queen and her child Henry's wrath would know no limits. It was vital that he find out who he was working for and under what orders. His sources had told him that the new pope had commissioned an attack on the good Queen Anne, but he had dismissed it as absurd. Now he was cursing himself for not taking it more seriously.

Anne was mostly responsible for the reformation in England, it was she who had turned England towards the light and towards the true religion, she who had shown the King the right path. The people loved her, and Cromwell was in awe at her. The beautiful kind lady had brought happiness to his King, and she had done God's sacred duty by bringing forth the true religion.

He felt a horrible sensation of guilt wash through him, and he prayed that she would come through the labour unscathed. England would not be the same without it's true Queen. He quickened his steps and made for the tower will all haste.

* * *

Henry cuddled close to Anne and monitored her laboured breathing, comfortingly stroking a hand through her sweat soaked hair. He had dismissed everyone but doctor Linacre who remained in Anne's outer rooms, ready to be called at the slightest hint that Anne could be worsening.

His poor darling was exhausted, the birth even more difficult due to the savage attack. He felt an anger he had never felt before, not even when Katherine had denied him his divorce and had involved Spain in his business had he felt such anger. He could not believe that someone would dare to harm his Queen and child, and that it was his own trusted servant. He felt a sense of despair wash through him, for how was he to trust anyone when the people he most trusted had betrayed him. His supposed first wife had betrayed him to Spain, his supposed best friend had betrayed him by marrying his sister. And now one of his most trusted servants had tried to kill his wife and child.

Anne was still sat up in bed her back supported by pillows. Linacre's cooling paste was still wrapped around her neck. She had been forbidden to lay down for fear of her breathing becoming constricted. Linacre had instructed for the Queen to be wakened every hour to ensure her health and continued breathing. Henry hated it, Anne who had been through so much in such a short space of time, was now not even allowed the comfort of sleep. How could he ever repay her? She had given everything to him, and honoured him with his beautiful Son, but in the process she had lost a father, a companion and her dignity, with her labour on full display for everyone to see.

Henry had forbidden the bells to be rung, although he was joyful of the birth of his first legitimate son, he was also very mindful of the sad occasion on which he had been born. Thomas Boleyn had been a vain and ambitious man, but in the end he had been the father of his wife, and had given his life to save his grandchild. He did not think it fitting to celebrate his son, when the loss of his grandfather was heavy on the mind of his wife's mind and heart.

He knew that he should leave and see to things, most importantly the traitor Brereton, but he found that he was unable to leave Anne's side. He had almost lost her, and he felt pain like he had never felt before at the thought of living without her.

Hearing his newborn son, begin to cry in distress, Henry placed a kiss on Anne's forehead and moved to the nearby crib that had been hastily brought in. looking down at his newborn son he felt that same unconditional love and affection he had felt for every child he had been given in the past. But this was his first legitimate son, and he felt a surge of love and pride fill him at the sight. He was very small, given his early birth, but he looked strong and content, his eyes already showing the same colour and intelligence that was in his mother's, and a dark hairs littered his scalp.

Very carefully he wrapped his arms around his son, and brought him to his chest, he smelled his baby soft skin and kissed his cheek as he cradled him close. He had assured Anne that he would be content to have a girl, and that was true, he had not lied. But now that he finally had the son he had always wanted in his arms, the son Anne had promised him, filled him with both relief and joy that his line was secure. He knew that babies often died young, and that his little son, had a bigger chance of succumbing to death through his small size, but looking at him and holding him close, he knew that he would live and one day rule England. He felt it in his bones.

Turning back to check upon Anne and assuring himself that she was safe he quietly stepped out of his bedchamber and into his outer presence chamber where Linacre sat with a solemn face.

'Your majesty?' he asked jumping to his feet.

'My son is hungry, you will need to fetch a wetnurse,' Henry instructed.

Linacre winced and thought about how best to explain.

'Your majesty, I know that it is protocol for Queen's not to feed their own children, however in this instance I believe it would be best for the Queen Anne to do so,' Linacre instructed.

Henry frowned and considered. Queen's never fed their own children from their own breasts, they were not cow's, and shouldn't be treated like them.

'How so?' Henry asked.

'Your son, is born early and the strength he will gain from his mother, will help him grow stronger, not to mention that I'm sure the Queen will appreciate it,' Linacre said.

Henry considered his words. It was true that milk from his own mother that had been made just for his son, would be best but he did not want Anne being treated like cattle.

'How will she appreciate it?' Henry questioned.

'After such a difficult birth, I'm sure that the Queen will not like being separated from her son, such traumatic events can cause anguish and unsettlement that would be detrimental to her health, we need to keep her calm and happy, and keeping her son close by will help her do so,' Linacre said.

Henry knew that if Linacres suggestion had come from anyone else he would have dismissed it outright. But the old doctor was very experienced, and possibly the best in Europe, if he was saying that it was in both his son's and Anne's best interest to for Anne to feed her own son, then that is what he would do. Linacre knew of his attachment to Anne, having saved her from the Sweat that had nearly took her from him. He knew best, and he would always do what was best for Anne.

'Very well,' Henry said and turned back towards the chamber, 'Please could you send for two of Anne's ladies?'

Henry went back into his chamber to find Anne awake again and alarmed as she found herself alone, her lips shut tight to save her voice, but fear was written in her eyes.

'I am here my love,' Henry assured hurrying forwards with their son.

He sat beside her and gently passed their son into her arms, making sure she had the strength to hold him.

Anne sighed in relief at having her son back in her arms, having being alarmed to find herself alone and without him. She wished with all her heart that she could speak to him, that he could hear his mother's voice but her throat was too swollen. She felt angry tears rush to her eyes that this had been taken away from her.

'Hush my love, he is here, and he is well,' Henry assured and kissed her head.

A timid knock on the door disrupted them and Mary and Nan entered, Anne's most trusted servants.

'Doctor Linacre has told me that Anne is to feed our new son, so she will need help being made more comfortable.

Anne looked up in shock at Henry's words. She had heard that Queen's never fed their own child, and she had felt a horrible sense of sadness at the thought of another woman feeding her son, but she had tried to get over it. The fact that it was now recommended that she do so filled her with happiness. She considered it to be the ultimate act of parenthood to feed and care for her own child.

Henry took their son for a few minutes, refusing to leave, as Anne's sister and lady in waiting washed the sweat from her body and hair and redressed her in clean clothes and plaited her hair so that she was more comfortable. Once this was done Anne held her arms out for her new Son, and Henry placed him back in his mother's arms. Mary leaned forwards to help undo Anne's nightgown, and support their son in the right placement, so that she would be comfortable and smiled as her nephew searched for food from her sister's breast. She was surprised Henry had not left, but then, after witnessing and being involved in his son's birth, the act of breastfeeding would probably not shock him. In fact, he sat on the other side of Anne and watched the scene with awe.

'He is beautiful Henry,' she dared to say.

Henry turned to look at his once lover and now sister in law and smiled. He knew that Mary had never loved him, knew that she had served him at her father's bidding, but she was a sweet girl, and kind, and he hoped that one day a good man would look past her past liaisons and see her for the lovely lady she was.

'Thank you Mary,' he replied.

'What are you going to call him?' Mary asked Anne.

Anne opened her mouth to reply then sighed in frustration and shrugged and turned to Henry with a question on her face.

'You should name him my love, his fearless devoted mother,' Henry smiled at her, 'there is no rush.'

'The bells have not been rung?' Mary asked confused.

'I did not think it was wise or decent,' Henry murmured looking over to the spot in his chambers where Thomas Boleyn had died.

Anne made a noise of protest and Mary looked at her sister and understood her protestations as only a sister could.

'I think that you should,' Mary replied, 'Father would want the birth of his grandson to be celebrated not mourned, he would want the whole of England to rejoice in Anne's success despite his sacrifice. England finally has it's Prince, and they should be able to celebrate. By all means tell the people that our Father died protecting this family, I'm sure it would both honour him and his grandson.'

Henry turned towards Anne who was still feeding their son, and she nodded in reply.

'Very well,' Henry said, 'stay with your mistress,' he instructed the ladies and with a quick kiss to Anne's forehead and a stroke of his son's soft cheek he reluctantly left the room to find his chamberlain to make the necessary arrangements.

* * *

Chapuys rushed through the corridors of Whitehall Palace towards the Princess Mary's rooms, although she had been banished for her previous offences against Anne she had been brought back for the upcoming birth of her sibling and he quickly hurried to the small rooms she had been given. They were perfectly adequate for a high Lady of court but for a Princess they were dismal, but then the King did not acknowledge Mary as his legitimate child.

He was happy to find that she was unattended, knowing that the King had given her few servants to wait on her, for her poor behaviour, and he assumed that they would be assisting the preparations for the joust.

He rushed into her rooms and found her reading near the window and looking out onto the grounds watching as the courtiers slowly came back from the joust.

'Your excellency!' She exclaimed standing at his alarmed expression.

'Princess,' he said quickly bowing.

'What has happened, as the assassin succeeded?' she asked with hopeful eyes.

Chapuys knew then that he had made the right decision, the Princess knew far too much, for Brereton not to name her under torture. He had to act fast.

'He has failed and has been captured alive,' He urged to explain.

'Then the harlot is not dead?' She asked with alarm.

'Perhaps she may still die in childbirth, but we cannot wait for that,' He said,

'What do you mean?' she asked starting to become scared by the fear she saw on Chapuys face.

'Master Cromwell is as we speak interrogating Brereton, he will undoubtedly name me as his conspirator and he may name you also, if he does, the wrath of your father will come to you,' Chapuys said.

'My father won't believe him, and I made no such plans with him, I was merely informed of them,' Mary sniffed.

'Informed and told no one,' Chapuys stated.

'My father will not harm me,' Mary stated her head held high in confidence.

'Princess I know you believe that your Father loves you, and deep down I know he does too, but his love for that witch runs far deeper, her spell over him is strong, if she dies, you will not be safe,' Chapuys said.

'You're wrong, when she dies my Father will be free of her,' Mary insisted.

Chapuys started to reply when the ringing of the city bells was suddenly heard. They were not the bells used for alarms, but rather to send joy through the city of London that the King had a son or a daughter. He watched as Mary's face drained of colour.

'She was birthed a child,' Mary said.

'And if she lives, her spell will hold and he will want revenge,' Chapuys said.

'But…' Mary started only to be cut off by Chapuys moving forwards and grasping her by the shoulders.

'Mary,' he said, and his informal tone shocked her to look into her friend's eyes.

'Believe me when I say that we must flee.'

'England is my home,my Mother is still here,' Mary spluttered as tears began to run down her face.

'Yes, and your Mother would want you unharmed so that one day you can return and take your rightful place, but it cannot be now, we must leave!'

Mary nodded shakily and sniffed.

'What do i do?' Mary asked forcing herself to be calm.

'Change into your plainest clothes, bring whatever of value and sentiment you have that you can carry and do so quickly,'

Mary sprung into action and started clawing at her dress, not caring that a man was in her rooms. Chapuys turned his back and stood guard near the door to her rooms, in case someone came.

Mary dragged on a plain black dress and removed her jewels and stored them in a purse, she ran to her jewellery box and removed her inheritance from it, a thick golden choker necklace that her mother had brought from Spain, that had come from Isabella herself. Removing her dainty slippers she replaced them with sturdier shoes and then ran to Chapuys side.

He turned and nodded and took her hand.

She took a deep breath and nodded back to him.

He opened the door and they fled.

* * *

Well there you go. Will they catch Mary before she flees? Who will Brereton name as his co-conspirators. What will catherine do when she finds out?

Review!


	25. Chapter 25

_For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Cromwell looked on at the man in disgust. He had held out well to the pain he had inflicted on him at first, but Cromwell could see the cracks beginning to appear. It wasn't the screams that gave it away, but the fear in his eyes and the look of apprehension and despair of what he knew was to follow. It wasn't just the pain that broke a man, it was in the waiting, of the long moments between the pain and that blessed moment of air, and relief, where your thoughts could return to you and collect yourself. It was in the knowing that it wasn't going to stop, that it was going to happen again, and knowing that you had no control over it.

Cromwell could see the total fear as he circled the man slowly, patiently, confident in his ability to get the man to talk. Normally this gruesome task would have been done by some lesser executioner, but Cromwell had seen to Brereton himself. This was not some common thief or murderer, this man had tried to kill The Queen of England, a woman who was essential to the reformation of England and the true religion.

He had stripped him first, making him vulnerable and had been shocked when he had seen the welts on his back, obviously self inflicted. He took notice of the hair shirt he wore also, and sighed to himself as he realised he had a devout catholic on his hands. Such men were not sane and caused themselves excruciating pain believing themselves closer to God that way. It was nonsense of course, but it made Cromwell's life that little bit more difficult if the man had already experienced such pain before.

He was muttering to himself, the same words over and over, some verse in latin from the Catholic bible, but his words stumbled with every circle that Cromwell made around him.

'This doesn't have to continue William, tell us of your accomplices and I am sure his majesty will offer you a painless death,' Cromwell assured him.

'Jesus Christ our lord and saviour returned to heaven through pain and suffering, so shall it be for his servants,' Brereton replied.

'I can assure you with all certainty that no God will forgive the sin of the attempted murder of a woman and an unborn child,' Cromwell said.

'God gave me this task,' Brereton responded.

'I am sure that you think so,' Cromwell replied.

He circled once more and this time lightly scraped his sharpened dagger around the mans neck drawing a circle of blood around his throat, not enough to cause significant damage but enough to hurt. It looked almost as if he had been beheaded and then had his head sewn back on, a symbol that did not go unnoticed by the now whimpering man.

'Last chance,' Cromwell offered.

When no answer was forthcoming Cromwell stepped forwards and blindfolded the man. Hidden behind him where he couldn't see, was a deep pool of water. Cromwell suspected that pain would not get the man to talk, but fear, and immobility might just do the trick.

He motioned to two men who stood guard against the door, who together picked up the man who was firmly attached to the chair with his hands and feet bound and moved him towards the large deep trough that was filled with dirty water.

'They say that drowning is supposed to be a peaceful death...perhaps you will be able to tell me,' Cromwell whispered into the man's ear who jumped in surprise.

The blindfold dulled the senses and heightened the fear of the unknown. He heard the deep breathing of the man increase sounding almost extremely loud in the depth of the dungeon in the Tower. His breaths echoed off the walls and Cromwell's lips wrinkled in disgust as he likened the sound to that of a pig.

Cromwell nodded to the men who was holding the still seated Brereton and they dropped the man still bound to the chair forwards into the trough. The weight and the bounds of the chair kept him immobile and unable to come up for air. The water was also freezing cold, adding to the discomfort.

Cromwell observed the thrashing and the sounds of the water splashing and slowly counted to thirty in his head and then nodded to the men who dragged him out by the back of the chair.

Brereton gasped and coughed and moaned, the biggest reaction Cromwell had out of the man so far and he smiled knowing that he had made the right choice.

'That was just a taster,' Cromwell stated, whispering again into the man's ear. 'I can do this all day, I will bring you to the brink of death time and time again, you will feel the agony of the water flooding your body and just as you are about to meet your lord, I will bring you back.'

Brereton moaned in distress and began to thrash and gasped out pleas for it to end.

'Tell me who you are working for?' Cromwell asked.

Brereton breathed heavily and shivered in the cold of the dungeon and hesitated before answering.

'I work for God,' He replied.

He turned to the two guards who nodded and picked up the chair again and threw him into the water.

Cromwell smiled at the thrashing, he would have an answer sooner or later, he would crack eventually.

* * *

Anne held her boy towards her and sniffed at his skin, she had still not been allowed out of bed, but she was content to hold her new baby boy. She had wanted a girl, but now that she held her precious boy in her arms she was simply happy that he was alive and healthy. For an unbearable moment she had been sure he was to die with her.

She closed her eyes in pain, still feeling the rope around her neck and watching as blood slowly seeped out of her father's body. She heard Arabella's soft whimpers as life slowly left her, her body dying from the sacrifice she had made for her mistress.

Her son's soft cry drew her out of her thoughts and she clutched him to her breast tighter watching in wonder as he drew milk and life from her body. Never had she felt such profound pure love in her life. She was the mother of this child, this Prince and the thought moved her profoundly. She leant down and kissed his soft skin closing her eyes in relief as she felt him tug at her breast.

He was alive and well and strong. She had given Henry everything she had promised and in doing so had almost lost everything. But she had persevered once again, God had looked out for her and had saved her and her child. Surely the young Prince was destined for great things.

Anne looked up into the smiling face of Henry who was gazing at the two of them with awe and love. She smiled in reply and felt another wave of fierce love and devotion wash through her. She had never asked, never dreamed to be the Queen of England, but here she was now holding a royal Prince and gazing at the King who looked on her as if she was Aphrodite herself. She saw the happiness and radiance shine from his eyes and knew that it had been worth it. She had lost so much, but in doing so had gained everything.

In the distance from through the castle's walls she heard the sounds of the church bells ringing in constant chimes. The whole of London would know of her birth and soon they would learn of the attempt on her life and her and her child's survival. She knew that the people now more than ever would rally to her cause. And the birth of a healthy Prince in such dangerous circumstances was surely proof to all of Europe that their marriage was a just and legal one, and that God had saved Anne and her child, the true family of Henry, whereas he had forsaken Katherine and her many dead children.

Her ladies could be heard in the outer chamber bustling around, likely making arrangements for the Prince's nursery. For now though it was just her son and Henry in her bedchamber and she liked it this way, for a few moments she wanted to forget, and just fantasise about being a normal family for once. She was just an ordinary woman celebrating the birth of her ordinary son with the love of her life. They were safe and happy and the outside world drifted away.

Henry leaned forwards and ran a soft hand through his wife's hair and gazed at her perfection in awe. Anne truly was remarkable, she had survived a murder attempt and a hazardous birth and lost her father, all in the space of a few hours but still she smiled and looked at him in love and not resentment. He would do whatever it took now to keep them safe, when he finally had the answers to the reasons for the attempt on her life, he would make sure that the threat was completely wiped out.

'Th….Thom...Thomas,' Anne croaked, ignoring the advice of Linacre for a few moments to croak out the name she had decided on.

'Anne!' Henry cried out, alarmed at hearing his darling's fragile voice croak out her father's name.

He moved closer to her and hushed her with a kiss to her lips, careful not to squish his son who was still happily feeding from his mother's breast.

'Thomas,' Anne croaked out again, and stared down pointedly at her newborn son.

Henry understood and considered. He had thought to name the newborn son Edward for his grandfather. But as he looked at his son, who already looked remarkably like Anne he knew that he could not deny her request. Thomas Boleyn had been a poor father, but he had given his life so his daughter and his grandson could live. In the end he had done the ultimate act of parenthood and sacrificed himself for his child. He still had his darling Anne and now a beautiful son because of him. He had a family, what he had always wanted.

It was the only name he could be given.

'Prince Thomas,' Henry replied smiling at her, knowing that it was the right choice.

Anne smiled back at him and mouthed the name at her son who would be named for her father. In the end her father had loved her and that was how Anne would remember him.

* * *

Cromwell raced through the halls of whitehall towards the Queen's apartment where he knew the King would be. Brereton had broke, it had taken the better part of the day but he had done it. And what he had revealed! At first he was astonished and considered it the ramblings of a mad man and had gone to punish him again, but he had screamed and screamed, swore on the name of God and his place in heaven.

He had wasted no time in rushing from the Tower towards the palace, giving hasty instructions to the guards to take him to his cell and to feed him. He had no idea how the King would react, or what he would order but Cromwell knew that he had to act with all haste.

He barged into the Queen's waiting room to see the quiet bustle of her ladies and her sister and a solemn doctor Linacre. He did not dare rush into the Queen's bedchamber and instead called out loudly.

'Your majesty!'

Nan Saville and Mary turned towards Cromwell in shock, he had no business here, especially when there was a newborn prince and the Queen was in such a vulnerable and indisposed position.

'You must leave Master Cromwell,' Mary instructed quietly, gazing fearfully at the door to the bedchamber.

'I cannot, I must speak to his majesty concerning the attack against the Queen,' Cromwell urged.

The noise however, had alerted the King and he hurried out of the bedchamber closing the door quietly and looking flustered and turned to face Cromwell. He had not expected the man to be done with Brereton so soon, however he took one look at the man's face and knew that he had answers.

'Doctor Linacre, you are to monitor the Queen and make sure she is comfortable. Lady Shelton, go and fetch Sir Anthony and tell him that he is not to leave the Queen's and Prince's presence under any circumstance, Lady Savile, Mary, make sure the Queen does not panic and keep her calm,' he gave his orders quickly and then grasped Cromwell by the arm and led him from the Queen's apartments.

They walked quickly to the King's presence chamber not wanting gossip to spread throughout Whitehall. George Boleyn was there already along with Norfolk and a few trusted others, although Henry's trust felt very fragile at the moment.

'Cromwell, what have you discovered from that bastard?' Henry spat.

'Your majesty, I will not delay in telling you of his confession, but must caution you in how you to proceed,' Cromwell urged knowing that delicacy and stealth would be required in these circumstances.

'Give me the names Cromwell!' Henry urged.

'Brereton resisted at first but eventually succumbed and named Ambassador Chapuys as his co-conspirator,' Cromwell said.

Henry swore and raged and pushed at the table containing his documents and letters and upturned it in his anger. Ignoring the flinches and worry amongst his council at his reaction.

'It does not surprise me,' Henry finally announced knowing that the man hated Anne and believed that Katherine was still his rightful Queen.

'He also claimed that his orders were given straight from God, on questioning, he further explained that by this he meant the Pope,' Cromwell paused and watched as all colour drained from the King's face.

'Pope Paul has given orders he claims comes from God, that England must come back from the clutches of heresy and has offered handsome rewards for the Queen's assasination.' Cromwell said.

Henry felt utterly ill. The vatican itself had tried to harm his beloved, had actually issued secret orders to try and bring her down! He felt rage like he had never known flood through him. They had no right to try and control his affairs in his country. Now more than ever he was convinced that Anne had been right in her views of the true religion, the very leader of the church, the man who _claimed_ to be God's representative on earth had tried to murder a woman in cold blood who was pregnant with his child! It was evil like he had never heard of.

'What else?' Henry croaked unable to voice his thoughts.

'Chapuys is aware of the Pope's designs, and I asked whether the Emperor was aswell to which he stated he was unaware,' Cromwell said.

'Of course he knows,' George butted in unable to take it anymore, 'How could he not, his own ambassador,- everyone knows how much of a supporter he is of Katherine, he himself imprisoned Pope Clement to get him to refuse the divorce, of course he knows!'

'It would seem likely,' Cromwell agreed.

'If I were younger and more brash as I used to be, I would declare war and immediately begin to mobilise our ships and soldiers for an attack on Spain, however as you say Cromwell, caution is needed here,' Henry whispered as if to himself considering. War was no easy thing and Spain, no matter how he hated them was not weak.

'There is something else your majesty,' Cromwell stated hesitantly.

'What?'

Cromwell paused seemingly lost for words and looked down at his feet.

'Answer man!' he shouted.

'Your daughter, the lady Mary has been named as a conspirator,' Cromwell whispered.

Henry stepped back in shock his eyes wide and his hand grasped at air as if needing something to lean on.

'It can't be true,' Henry denied.

'He swore it before God,' Cromwell replied.

The men in the room all gazed at Henry waiting for his reaction. It was well known that the once Princess hated Anne and refused to submit to her father. But never did anyone think that she could be motivated enough to kill. But now Henry cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, remembering her violent attack against Anne when she was pregnant.

Henry looked up from his shock and stared straight into the eyes of Cromwell, he looked hard and saw that the man had believed the traitor and believed he was telling the truth.

With no warning whatsoever Henry ran from the rooms.

Cromwell and George raced after him in shock at his sudden departure, fearing that sanity may have left the monarch. Despite their youth and athleticism they could not catch the young King as he ran through the halls of Whitehall paying no heed, to the startled courtiers and servants who flattened themselves to the wall and made way.

They realised where he was heading soon enough as they came across the Lady Mary's quarters. Without pausing to ask for entrance Henry stormed the room causing a few flustered servants to look up in astonishment as the King barged into this daughters rooms. Lady Salisbury the governess of Mary hastily curtsied.

'Your majesty this is an honour, I'm sure the Lady Mary will be honoured to see you,' She said panicked by the sudden appearance of the King.

Henry paid her no mind and pushed past her and flung open the door to her bedchamber. Immediately noticing that his daughter was not there.

He turned and grabbed Salisbury by the throat and pushed her against the wall ignoring her screams and the cries from the other servants and the shocked shouts from Boleyn and Cromwell.

'Where is she?!' He screamed at her shaking her roughly.

'The lady Mary is at prayer,' She uttered panicked with tears coming down her face.

Henry threw her to the floor and reentered his daughters rooms, and strode to her dresser and rifled through her belongings coming to the chest that kept her most precious jewellery and opened it before throwing it to the floor.

He barged back into the the waitings rooms to the astonished faces of his servants.

'Send men to every corner of London and send word to every port, my daughter is a traitor and is on the run with the ambassador Chapuys, they are to be caught and brought back here...dead or alive,' He shouted fury in his eyes.

'Your majesty?' Salisbury asked confused.

'You think I do not know my own daughter madam? She would never leave without her prized jewellery that her mother gifted her, she has fled like the traitor she is,' Henry stated absolutely sure that he was right.

'Your majesty?' Cromwell interrupted hesitantly and asked for confirmation of his orders.

'Search London Cromwell, search the whole of my kingdom if you have to, I am positive that you will not find a trace of Katherines daughter anywhere!' Henry spat renouncing all claim to the bastard child.

Cromwell rushed from the room to begin his work but George Boleyn stepped forwards ignoring the cringing servants who remained frozen in place.

'Henry are you okay?' He asked. He had no idea how his brother in law must be feeling right now, to gain a son and lose a daughter, his beloved attacked and almost murdered, with the permission of God's so called servant on earth, it would be too much for him to bear never mind the King.

'I hardly know,' he whispered back.

George was astonished when tears began to run down Henry's face and saw the utter look of heartbreak on his face.

'Let's get you back to Anne,' George whispered.

'No I must…' Henry started.

'No Henry,' George whispered ignoring formality, 'You must trust in Cromwell and in us, he is very efficient and will do all that is possible to bring the traitors back here to await trial. But right now you need to be with Anne, and she needs to be with you.'

'I can't,' Henry said shaking his head.

'Anne loves you more than anyone else in this world, and your little boy will also, you should be with them and bask in their love and comfort Henry, you will need a clear head for what is to come.'

Henry nodded silently and considered. He trusted Cromwell and he trusted George and Norfolk, they would see to everything. He was too angry and hurt to consider anything else, his heart hurt. He knew that he and Mary had their differences and that she did not like Anne. But to try and _murder_ her and her unborn brother? Had he caused this to happen? Had be brought her up to commit this kind of sin and evil? What kind of father could he hope to be for Thomas if he had failed so spectacularly with Mary.

Suddenly he realised that there was another parent who had a lot to answer for. Although Cromwell had not mentioned her, he would hear it from her own lips that she had not known of the plot against Anne's life. He would stare into the face of Katherine of Aragon once again and ask her for the truth and this time no Emperor, or Pope, or even God would stop him from getting her to speak the truth.

'Thank you brother,' Henry said.

George nodded and smiled in reply at the title glad that the King considered him as such. He gestured for the King to leave before him and hastily dismissed the servants behind him.

George walked the King towards Anne's apartments glaring at anyone who dared to stop and try to talk to them.

Upon arriving Henry turned to George and whispered to him, 'Bring Katherine here, do it quietly and do not tell her what has occurred,' Henry ordered.

'Are you sure that's wise?' George dared to question knowing that Anne would not like it.

'If she is even the slightest bit involved, I will not hesitate to throw her in the tower,' Henry replied.

George nodded and backed away hastily, he thanked God regularly that he was not on the wrong side of the King, for when he wanted blood nothing had ever stopped him.

* * *

 **Let me know what you think!**


	26. Chapter 26

" _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Queen Katherine of Aragon as she still called herself, for she refused to consider anything else, stared listlessly at the plain cold walls of the Moor. This was no place for a queen, no place for the daughter of Isabella and Francis, but yet here she was. Henry had offered her lavish comfort and servants for her co-operation, but she hadn't been scared of poverty, no matter what he had said and suggested. Christ her lord had not entered heaven on a feather mattress and neither would she.

But it _was_ a far cry from what she was used to. Her maids were minimal and uneducated, not like the noble girls she had as her ladies in waiting at Whitehall. Her rooms were bare, the castle was cold, and her food was basic. Henry had reduced her to the basic standards of living. But she thanked God for what she did have, for she knew that she had more than most.

Her days were passed in lonely silence, except for the few visits she had received from Sir Thomas one of the few friends she still had left. She prayed to God for answers, and she prayed for Henry to realise the folly of his ways, and the destruction he was causing on his own country by marrying that harlot who now called herself Queen.

Katherine tried not to think of it, however her mind was filled with images of the young beauty sitting on _her_ throne, wearing _her_ jewels, and commanding _her_ people. The Boleyn girl was barely of noble blood, beautiful yes, intelligent certainly, but a Queen? She had rose too high, if only she had given in to Henry's advances, and become his mistress. Katherine would have looked the other way as she had done countless times before, and in a few months he would have tired of her, like all the others. Instead, coached by her despicable Father, and Norfolk she had resisted and enticed him, and driven him mad in want for her.

Her only hope had been that eventually, when that whore did give herself to him, he would see her for the harlot that she was. But instead he had married her, cast his true and loving wife away, and now that witch had birthed a son. The thought sent a burst of agony through her. How could God be so unjust and grant that witch that Katherine had always wanted. A healthy prince, the image of his father and heir to the throne. Instead Katherine had born a host of dead children, time after time after time. The thought of them all buried at Windsor in their tiny graves, taken to God too soon made her ache inside.

But she had given birth to Mary, and remarkably she had survived. She was weak and frail but she had persevered and lived. Katherine had seen it as a sign of God, that her little girl, her Princess was destined to rule. Why else would he have taken all of her boys away from her. England was destined to be ruled by a woman, just like her mother Isabella of Castile had ruled Spain.

Henry had seemed content too. He had loved Mary, and she knew that deep down he still did. She was beautiful and intelligent, and had the makings of a great Queen. But he had drew further and further away from her. He had always had mistresses, but he had always been discreet before, and had favoured his daughter and Katherine more than his little sluts. But then he began spending more and more time away from her. Their marriage fell to pieces and the love he had once had for her had faltered.

When Lady Blount had birthed him a healthy son, a bastard by all accounts Katherine had been upset, but had not considered little Henry Fitzroy to be a threat. But Henry had doted on the boy and had elevated him above Mary his legitimate daughter, and their relationship fell even more. He had seen the birth of his son as proof that God would not grant him a male child off her, that their marriage was a sin, and that the only way to fix the problem was to be rid of her.

She knew she had deceived him, by claiming virginity when she had married Arthur, but she _had_ considered their marriage valid, the pope had given them a dispensation after all. She had barely time to be married to Arthur, and had barely known him, though she had loved him completely. They had only consummated their marriage that one time, and she had kept it to herself, hoping that it would not be an issue. She still believed that she was the rightful Queen of England. Bishop Fisher had said so, Thomas More has said so, the Pope had said so. Everyone had been on her side. But that woman had destroyed everything, she had somehow won the favour of the people of England and turned them against her. She introduced Lutheranism to Henry and shown him the ultimate power he could receive by listening to the heretics that proclaimed themselves to be of the true religion.

England had fallen, along with her marriage and now she was left in the Moor to live out the rest of her days. Her only hope left was that her daughter would one day be Queen. Anne could brith as many boys as she wanted and none of them could compete with Mary, of that she was sure. Her daughter was perfect, and had been chosen by God to right the wrongs that had been committed against England and herself.

A knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts and she turned from the fire and straightened her nightgown wrapping her shawl tightly around her. She was not well enough to leave her bedchamber, and was in no condition to wear the tight constricting apparel that was her wardrobe.

Her chamberlain entered and made a shallow bow, employed by Henry, he would never show her the proper respect she deserved.

'Madam, His grace George Boleyn is here to see you.'

Katherine stared at her chamberlain in shock and repulsion. What on earth could that harlots brother be here for? Had he come to gloat about the birth of his nephew? She would resist such attempts to lower her spirits. She wanted to refuse him and considered doing so, when her chamberlain interrupted her thoughts.

'He said he is under explicit orders of his Majesty,' He continued.

She nodded, knowing she had no choice 'then send him in.'

George Boleyn entered with all the arrogance and pomp and circumstance that surrounded all the Boleyns. They thought themselves so superior, even before Anne, she had noticed the way they carried themselves, as if the rest of the world was beneath them. He made no bow to her and looked down his nose in disgust at her appearance.

'Your grace, what an unexpected pleasure,' She said without any warmth.

'Likewise madam,' he replied, eyes cold.

'Of what can I do for you?' she asked.

'It pleases me to announce that her majesty Queen Anne has delivered of a healthy baby boy, and that the King is overjoyed with the news,' George said smiling smugly at her look of pain.

'Yes I am well aware your grace, news travels fast even here to this deserted place,' Katherine said.

'His majesty, summons you to court,' Boleyn continued as if she had not spoken.

Katherine glared back at him 'If you think I will come to London, and pay court to that bastard child and that usurper then you are a fool.'

'You are the fool if you think you have any choice in the matter,' Boleyn returned.

'Will you drag me all the way to Whitehall your grace?' Katherine hissed.

'I don't need too, you will come all by yourself,' Boleyn replied, obviously he knew something she did not, for she could not possibly imagine what would tempt her to leave.

She was ill, and she would not pay court to a bastard child of that harlot. She would go to the tower first, and die a martyr, she would never betray Mary and proclaim to the world that Anne's bastard was the heir to her daughter's throne.

'How so?' she asked.

'The King does not summon you to court to pay homage to his son,' Boleyn said.

'Then what does he summon me for?' she asked confused.

'It is about your daughter the Lady Mary,' he replied, and watched smugly as her face clouded in confusion and fear.

What was wrong with Mary? Was she sick? Was she hurt? Henry had forbidden all contact between them, and now he was allowing her to see her? It did not make sense unless something awful had happened to her.

'Is she ill?' she whispered fearfully.

'I have no more to say on the matter,' Boleyn replied.

Katherine knew what he was doing. He was dangling Mary in front of her, like a nut to a squirrell. He knew she would put aside everything for her daughter. The lack of information frustrated her as she worried for her daughter. But her pride smarted at the thought of giving in, especially to a Boleyn.

'Tell me,' she begged, shame filing her at the sound of her own desperate voice.

'You will have all the information you need at Whitehall madam,' Boleyn continued.

Katherine closed her eyes in agony and gave in, knowing that she would risk everything for her beloved daugher.

'Very well,' she muttered.

'We leave in an hour,' Boleyn replied and left the room to ready the carriage for the return journey for London.

Katherine struggled out of her chair and rang for her maids, and told them to pack all of her clothes and dress her for the journey. Her body shook at the strain but she ignored it and hurried her maids, impatient to be on the way.

* * *

Katherine had thought that when she returned to London it would be to crowds of people welcoming her back, she believed that the common people welcomed her and loved her, but the reality was decidedly different.

The streets were lined with evidence of celebration from the news of the new Prince, but when they saw the carriage go through the streets, either they were unaware that she was returning or they had no interest in her, or both.

Katherine didn't know how to feel about this, she had always been loved by the people, but now it seemed they had flocked to Anne's side.

The carriage entered into Whitehall and upon exiting she was shocked to see castle guards there to escort her, along with Sir Anthony Knivert. No one stepped forwards to help her down from the carriage and George Boleyn immediately joined Knivert as part of her escort.

'What a warm welcome Sir Anthony,' Katherine remarked.

'Madam,' he coldly replied.

Knivert had always been pleasant in the past, ready with a smile and a bow, he had seemed neutral in the whole great matter, but now he looked upon her with barely concealed contempt, and she frowned in confusion. Something had obviously occurred that warranted her coming here, and she started to fear what it could be. Boleyn had mentioned her beloved daughter and it obviously concerned her, was she in trouble?

'I am here as requested, may I be shown to my rooms in order to prepare to meet my hus...the King,' she amended quickly noticing the glare Boleyn sent her way.

'You are to be taken to his majesty directly,' Knivert replied.

'Then I am at his majesty's disposal,' Katherine replied, though inside she wondered if Henry had any common decency left in him. It was a long drive from the Moor to London, and she was tired and crumpled and wished to make a good impression. She didn't want her long awaited return to be mired by a crumpled appearance.

Katherine was led through the familiar corridors of Whitehall with the Castle guards flanking her and Boleyn leading and Knivert following behind. It seemed like they were escorting a prisoner to the tower, and her heart began to thud painfully in her chest.

The corridors were empty with no courtiers to be seen, and it was eerily quiet, all that could be heard was her footsteps rebounding of the cold stone walls of Whitehall palace, a place she had once considered her home, and now seemed forbidding and daunting.

They were heading towards the great hall and towards Henry's presence chamber where he received visitors and foreign dignitaries, but Katherine felt far from welcome. The great doors opened and Katherine barely heard her new title called out as she stared at the courtiers littering the great hall flanked on either side. Henry sat at the top of the room on a throne, the one next to it that had used to be hers but was now empty. And she supposed Anne was still recovering from the birth.

She held her head high and walked steadily forwards ignoring the courtiers and the silent glares sent her way and focused on the man she still considered to be her Husband. He had not changed in the short time they had been apart. He was still a handsome young man, though his hair was a little longer, and he was just as richly dressed as usual in a red doublet adorned with gold and diamonds, he looked every inch the handsome Prince she had fallen in love with and she felt her heart twinge with pain as she remembered that she had once been loved by this man in return.

She curtsied low and kept her eyes lowered as was proper and waited for him to acknowledge her.

'Katherine,' Henry said in a cold voice.

'Your Majesty,' Katherine replied rising and gazing into cold blue eyes.

Henry gazed at the woman he had once thought he had loved. She had aged considerably and looked weak and sickly and he felt a small glimmer of pleasure at the sight. His beloved Anne was in her rooms, with their son, littered in bruises and unable to speak, because of the machinations of her bastard daughter. Katherines discomfort could never be enough to match the pain and suffering Anne had gone through in the past few days.

'I must congratulate you on the birth of your Son,' Katherine said, knowing it was polite though the words sounded bitter in her mouth.

Instead of a smug response she was expecting she watched as Henry's hands clenched and his face turned white with anger.

'Do you really?' He asked.

'I know that it has long been your dearest wish,' Katherine replied, knowing that he had set aside their marriage for the chance to have a son with Anne.

'How little you know me,' Henry replied.

Whilst it was true that he had once considered it the most important thing in the world to have a son and continue the Tudor line, he now knew better. Nothing mattered more to him than Anne's health and happiness.

'Where is our daughter?' Katherine asked unable to stay quiet anymore, and not seeing her in the hall.

She had been so full of hope and excitement in seeing her beloved daughter once again and was sorely disappointed that she was not present, perhaps she was sick after all.

'That is an excellent question,' Henry replied almost too quietly to hear.

'Your majesty?' Katherine questioned, starting to feel the edges of panic flaring through her.

'Make way for Queen Anne!' a herald announced.

And suddenly the hall flared into life. The courtiers surrounding the Hall sank into deep curtsies and Henry sprang from his seat obviously not expecting his wife to be outside of her rooms. The look of love on his face caused a deep hurt in Katherine, but what also hurt was the marked show of respect and awe from the courtiers around her, many of whom had once been her supporters. They now bowed low and looked at the fake Queen with reverence.

Katherine turned to look at her most hated enemy and felt the blood rush from her face. She was carrying her boy. He was wrapped in purple velvet cloth but she couldn't make out his face. But she was absolutely astonished that she had brought him with her into the hall. She kept him close to her heart her arms wrapped securely around him as if someone would seek to take him away at any minute. Indeed she looked almost fearful.

As she got closer Katherine reluctantly sank into a curtsy. Anne was not in her usual attire. Vain and proud she usually wore the most expensive glamorous french fashions that breached propriety as far as Katherine was concerned, and her hair was usually painstakingly arranged in artful styles. Now she looked very different. Still heart stoppingly beautiful, but she was in an unrestricting plain green gown, that would not have looked out of place on a low courtier, her hair was down in simple natural curls that fell to her lower back. She had no jewels on her person and no crown on her head. The only thing that was different was an embroidered scarf that was wound round her neck in a peculiar way. Katherine wondered if this was some sort of new fashion that she was trying to make popular.

'My love!' Henry cried and rushed past Katherine to embrace Anne and plaster her face in kisses.

Where as before the open display of affection would have repulsed the courtiers, now they looked on in fondness.

Henry gazed at Anne in shock, awed by her courage to appear before her rival in her current state. By now the whole of Whitehall knew about her attack and they had rallied to her cause, unable to condone an attack on a pregnant lady and their now Prince. Henry placed a kiss on his sleeping son's forehead marveling at his beauty and perfection. God had clearly showed them his favour by gifting them with this precious boy. He had survived against all the odds against him and now he was thriving in his mother's love and protection and Henry felt his heart swell with adoration and pride at the sight of the two most important people in his world.

He gently led Anne to her throne and helped her sit down, making sure Thomas was covered and warm enough and making sure Anne was comfortable. If she wanted to be present for Katherine's interrogation then he wouldn't stop her, she was entitled to hear what she had to say.

Katherine gazed up at Anne in bewilderment. She had said nothing, no scathing remarks or smug pleasure at her success, instead she just gazed at Katherine with her cold blue eyes. Katherine had seen those eyes gaze at her before, and had always known that they contained intelligence and secrets. But now as she looked at her, she seemed to have something else about her, an almost calm anger and loathing so deep that it startled Katherine. Anne's eyes had always been beautiful and one of her best features, but now they were twisted in hatred. Katherine wondered again why she did not voice her obvious anger.

'You are here today to answer for your daughters crimes,' Henry said, startling Katherine from her thoughts.

'Crimes?' she asked shocked, her angel a criminal? Impossible.

'She is accused of treason, and attempted murder,' Henry answered.

'Of what are you speaking of Henry?' Katherine asked forgetting formality now in the shock of his statements.

'Three days ago, as my beloved wife laboured to bring my child into this world, an assassin entered and attempted to kill my wife and unborn child,' Henry said.

Katherine stared at him in shock. Someone had tried to kill Anne? Katherine did not like the woman, but to try and kill a pregnant lady, was an evil she would not condone.

'Surely you are not telling me that Mary tried to kill the Lady Anne?' Katherine asked astonished.

'Queen Anne!' Henry snapped at her.

'Forgive me, Queen Anne,' Katherine corrected, not wanting to worsen the situation more than it already was.

'The assassin was William Brereton, who we have come to understand was hired by the Imperial Ambassador Chapuys,' Henry said.

'I am very sorry to hear that Queen Anne was attacked and I condemn it utterly,' Katherine said truthfully.

'Brereton also named your daughter as a coconspirator,' Henry announced.

The silence in the Hall was crushing. Katherine felt as if her breathing was as loud as an orchestra and that everyone could hear her panicked gasps.

'Mary would never condone an attack on a pregnant lady, no matter who she was,' Katherine managed to force out.

'You believe this?' Henry asked.

'I did not raise our daughter to commit such heinous crimes,' Katherine replied firmly.

'Then you believe she is innocent?' Henry asked.

'Of course, Henry this is madness! You know our daughter and her loving kind heart. Any man will say anything to stop the pain of torture,' Katherine replied.

'And I would be inclined to agree with you if it wasn't for one thing,' Henry replied.

'And what is that?' Katherine asked.

'Your daughter is nowhere to be found, along with ambassador Chapuys,' Henry replied stonily.

Katherine felt her knees shake and felt herself drift to the floor. Where was her daughter? Why had she left? Her leaving was as good as proving her guilt, if she was innocent she should have stayed and fought, trusting in her father to see the truth of her character.

Her daughter was ruined, her life in England was over.

Henry stood and walked behind Anne's throne, and leaning over it he gently unwrapped the scarf from around her neck and the entire hall gasped in shock. Katherine looked at the severe bruising around Anna's neck and now understood why she remained silent.

'Your daughter conspired with that spanish bastard Chapuys to murder my wife and unborn child. Anne was betrayed and left alone, in the agonies of childbirth whilst a traitor tried to strangle the life out of her. Her father died protecting her. Her loving companion died protecting her. My son, my beloved boy has not heard his mother's voice, because your daughter orchestrated an attempt on her life, on both of their lives!' Henry shouted at her.

Katherine winced at every word, struggling to contain the misery that washed through her, if it was true then Katherine had no hope left in her anymore. She gazed again at the ugly marks on Anne's neck and watched as she placed a kiss on her child's forehead and now understood her protective stance and her utter reluctance to be separated from her child.

Someone had tried to kill him, in the middle of her labour someone had tried to kill both of them. Katherine could not imagine the depth of pain and trauma Anne must have gone through.

'And now I must ask you,' Henry said, causing her to look up at him again, 'Did you know?'

Katherine just stared back.

'Were you aware that your daughter was orchestrating this with the spanish ambassador? You have always slipped letters to him and to Spain, involving your nephew in things that were not his concern. Did you order this too?' Henry asked.

Katherine considered her reply. She was innocent of any knowledge about this plot, but why would Henry believe her? It was true she had sent secret letters to Spain and had secret meetings with the now dead Mendoza and had kept a correspondence with Chapuys. But she had not known that he was going to such extremes to get rid of her enemy. Perhaps she should say she had known and commit herself to a traitor's death. As a noble, and a once Queen she would be entitled to a painless death by beheading.

This life had not been kind to her. It had started well and with good prospects. She had been a Princess of Spain to the greatest monarchs to have lived. She was betrothed to a handsome kind Prince whom she had loved completely. But then he had died, and a little piece of her had died with Arthur. But she had pushed through that pain and had been rewarded with Henry, who had loved her and saved her and she had pushed through the pain of losing him. But then her babies had died, one by one, over and over again, taking little pieces of her with them, until the pain was exhausting in its extremities. But then she had been given Mary and she had pushed through it. But then Henry had strayed, and condemned their marriage and with every mistress he took, he took another piece of her with him. But she pushed through the pain because Mary would be Queen one day. Then Anne had come along and had stolen her husband's heart and had birthed a healthy son, and now there was nothing else to live for.

Mary was lost, her position ruined, she would forever be an exile from England. If she had fled to Spain then perhaps her nephew would help her. But to what end? The people would never forgive her for trying to murder an innocent. There was nothing left. Her heart's last pieces had come unstuck and there was nothing left.

Tears coursed silently down her face and she made no attempt to remove them. Nor did she answer Henry, content to let what would happen, happen.

Suddenly though she felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up into Anne's blue eyes that were now clouded in pity. Thomas was in his father's arms were he was cuddled close as he watched in confusion as Anne comforted the mother of the girl who had tried to end her life.

Katherine looked into the eyes of her enemy and felt the anger she had for this woman fade away. What was there to be angry about any more? What was the point? Anne seemed to see right through her. She stepped back and turned towards the courtiers and clicked her fingers. Two of her ladies ran from the sides towards her. Anne motioned with her hands to get them to help Katherine to her feet and she leaned on them heavily.

'Anne?' Henry questioned.

Anne turned to look at her husband and shook her head. When she had walked in the great hall and saw Katherine before her husband she had felt the hatred in her for this woman swell. This woman had given birth to an evil child who had tried to take her precious son away from her. She had been content to watch Henry grill her and watch her pain.

But slowly, that changed into pity as she watched Katherine sag and age in front of her. She watched as all hope left her and she seemed to crumble into nothing. The despair and pain on her face told Anne all she needed to know.

Katherine had not known.

This kind of pain only came from a mother feeling for her child. A pain Anne now understood far too well.

Deciding quickly she had summoned her sister and Nan and ordered them to help the once Queen to her feet.

Turning to face Henry, she communicated to him in the only way she could, by shaking her head and urging him to see with her eyes, that Katherine was innocent. She watched him sag, and knew that he understood.

'Take her to some guest quarters, and help her get settled,' Henry instructed Anne's ladies in waiting, who immediately obeyed and gently began to usher the once Queen out of the Hall.

Henry clutching Thomas close, moved towards Anne and kissed her forehead lovingly. She never ceased to amaze him, the depth of her compassion and kindness towards someone whom she should feel none. He certainly didn't, but he was powerless to Anne's wants and wishes. He would do whatever he could to make her happy, such was his devotion to her.

The courtiers were now starting to murmur and mingle again and talk about what had just happened. Henry knew that soon the details of Anne's attack would be make its way into the lower parts of London. Soon the whole of England would know of Anne's bravery and benevolence.

Clutching her close and passing Thomas back to her, he escorted her from the Hall and towards her quarters, knowing that she needed rest.

Tomorrow he would continue the hunt for his daughter, but right now, he need to be with Anne, for it was with her that he would always feel at peace.

 **Sorry for the late update! Let me know your thoughts.**


	27. Chapter 27

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

Anne sat in her rooms and gazed solemnly out the window her son clutched to her chest securely. Her thoughts were in anguish. Upon seeing Katherine she had wanted to scream at the woman to cause her as much pain and hurt that her daughter had caused her. But she had refrained, allowed Henry to sit her on his throne and clutch her boy to her chest and gaze at her in a purely smug manner. She would not be brought down, not by her, her evil daughter, or Spain or the Pope. God had saved her and her child.

But then she had seen the horror on her face as Henry accused Mary, the genuine disbelief and anguish and finally acceptance. She hadn't known, and all she had become to Anne then was an Old lady who was clinging helplessly to the past and looking all the worse for it. She had helped her, given her, her two most favoured maids and taken her to nice chambers that were more lavish than she deserved. Her old quarters and been removed and demolished and turned into chambers for high ranking courtiers. Anne and Henry and Henry had wanted no reminders of her.

Having her back here left Anne unsettled, she knew in her heart that she had no power, over England or over Henry, yet words she had once spoken to her, when Anne was on her knees as a mere servant reverberated in her head.

 _'He will tire of you…like all the others'_

 _'He cannot offer you his true heart…for I have that in my keeping…'_

She loved Henry with all her heart, and she trusted him, but she couldn't help but think that she had now done what she had sworn to do. She had given him the son he had craved, and now what use was she? Perhaps it was why she had craved a girl, so she could keep Henry's attention and stop his wandering eye. Not that it had wandered in the past years, it had remained firmly on her, and his attention seemed to second only to his duty, and even then he sometimes sacrificed it to spend time with her.

Anne had no cause to worry

And yet…

 _'He will tire of you…like all the others…'_

Anne closed her eyes and pushed the thoughts from her mind and instead gazed down at her beautiful son. He had whispers of dark hair on his head and his eyes were the most brilliant shade of charcoal blue, exactly like her own. Other than this he looked like any other baby with his chubby cheeks and toothless smile. But Anne was positive she saw the curve of her cheekbones and the shape of her nose on his face. She was positive that he would look very much like her one day which delighted and alarmed her.

She knew that Fathers always wanted sons to take after them, and to boast of their son's accomplishments. Would Henry be annoyed if he took after her? There were plenty of people as well who, despite their support now would be only too willing to whisper in Henry's ear that Thomas looked nothing like him. Remembering his suspicion regarding Sir Anthony, in the beginnings of her pregnancy Anne shivered with fear. Thomas could not become a tool to be sued against her.

She cursed herself again and buried her head in his baby soft neck and breathed in his scent. He smelled like life, something that was nearly taken from him. Her precious son.

'Thomas,' she whispered to him, her voice still shaky from Brereton's attack.

Her son remained asleep quietly tucked against her chest.

'Thomas, my son,' she said louder this time and with more strength.

Slowly his blue eyes opened and gazed into his mother's eyes, he yawned slightly and reached his hands up to grasp at her hair which hung over her shoulders in curls. She laughed quietly and adjusted his grip.

'Thomas I love you,' she said louder, and watched delighted as he smiled and gurgled at her happily. Love like she had never known flooded through her and she knew that she would do anything, be anything as long as her son was safe and happy.

'It is good to hear your voice my love,' Henry's voice came from the entrance to her chambers.

Anne started slightly but turned to smile at her husband, her earlier doubts forgotten.

'Henry,' she said.

'Oh Anne,' Henry was at her side in an instant and had both of them wrapped in his arms tightly. 'How I have missed hearing you,'

Anne gazed lovingly into her husband's eyes and used her free hand to cup his cheek and reached up to kiss him slightly and grazed her teeth over his bottom lip, loving the way he gasped and inched closer to her. She congratulated herself on still being able to entice him, her horrifying birth and seeing her in that state had not diminished his passionate regard for her.

'I love you,' she whispered to him.

'Oh sweetheart, my heart is yours,' he whispered back, and stroked a finger down her cheek and then down his sons.

'He looks remarkably like you,' Henry said.

'Is that a bad thing?' Anne croaked.

'Of course not,' Henry laughed, 'he will be the most handsome and sort after Prince in all of Europe.'

Anne smiled happy that Henry showed none of the earlier thoughts she had worried over.

'How long will Katherine be here for?' Anne asked.

'I'm not sure,' Henry replied and frowned at Anne's look of displeasure.

'Sweetheart I want her here as much as you, but her daughter has fled to Spain, and will most likely seek to contact her in some way, it will be much easier to monitor this situation with her here under my nose, I will not risk your lives again just to make my life simpler,' Henry said.

Anne understood his reasoning but still she worried that with Katherine here, her new supporters would start to remember that she had once been a loved Queen, and that she had the support of the people.

But Anne shook herself, Katherine's daughter had tried to kill her, _Spain_ had tried to kill her, the very country Katherine was born too. The people loved Anne, and they knew Anne in a way they never knew Katherine. She was not some haughty princess that thought too much of herself and placed herself on a pedestal that was only glimpsed on formal occasions, instead she was _seen_ and she was _heard,_ she was relatable in a way Katherine never was. She supposed mystery and stoicism had their uses on occasion when the people wanted the glory and the pageantry that came with monarchy. But on the other hand they wanted to know that they were listened to and respected and that their leaders were healthy and of strong constitutions. Anne knew she got the balance well, much more than what Katherine ever did.

'How are you feeling?' Henry asked rubbing a finger against the purple marks that still littered her neck.

'Better,' Anne replied.

'Are you still scared?' Henry still questioned, he couldn't help but think that Anne was not her normal self, even though she had suffered an awful attack, he couldn't help but think something else was troubling her.

Anne sighed and turned to put Thomas into his crib and placed a kiss on his forehead before turning back to a worried looking Henry.

'I'm not scared of him,' Anne said referring to Brereton who would soon be executed.

'Then what is it?' Henry asked moving towards her to rub her arms.

'Do you still love me?' Anne whispered brokenly.

Henry stared at his wife in shock. How could she doubt him? After everything they had gone through she still questioned him? He forced the anger down and tried to look at it from her perspective.

'How can you doubt it?' he asked.

'Because you saw _everything,_ the humiliation of me on the floor… helpless… the mystery of birth, what should be primarily a woman's prerogative, and you had to be there, in the blood and the dirt…' Anne veered off, tears coming down her face.

Henry suddenly understood. It wasn't something he ever thought he would witness, his wife giving birth, it had always been a woman's business, and he had preferred it that way. He supposed Anne was now thinking he was disgusted with her.

'Anne, I know the circumstances of our son's birth weren't ideal, and I would give anything to change it for you, but a part of me will always be a little grateful. Not for your pain, or for that traitorous bastard and what he almost did, but for the opportunity to witness God in life. The miracle that is birth, to see my son, my only son brought into this world, to know that I had a part in that, to see him take his first breath. That is a gift I will never be able to repay. And my love for you has only grown, but more than that, my respect and awe for you and what you achieved has grown to new heights. You are the most remarkable, beautiful woman in the world Anne, and I am honoured that you are my wife and mother of my child.' Henry said.

Anne broke into tears and wrapped herself around him, all her fears soothed. Henry loved her, would always love her. She knew that and she cursed herself for doubting him.

'I'm sorry,' Anne said cupping her husband's face.

'Hush I understand,' Henry replied and brought their foreheads together.

* * *

Anne stood behind the closed door with a grown on her face. Nan and Mary were behind her waiting patiently and not questioning as to why she was staring at the door in question.

She hadn't wanted to come.

She had done her part, she had made sure she was looked after and had escaped Henry's wrath.

Part of her felt nervous and silly, not in the least bit the Queen. She remembered having more confidence when she was just a lady in waiting. Back then she felt invincible. She pulled herself up straight and slightly adjusted the tiara on her head. She would look her best in front of the woman she replaced, she would give her no reason to think she wasn't as confident as she looked.

She knocked, and was admitted by Madge who she had lent to the Queen since she had no servants. Madge smiled in delight at seeing her Mistress, the once Queen Katherine was dull and dour and made no conversation and in the short time she had served her, she did not know how Anne had done it for so many years.

'How are you cousin?' Anne asked.

'I am well your majesty, happy to see you,' Madge replied. She was always very grateful that Anne acknowledged their blood relationship, and didn't dismiss her as a mere maid. She remembered her roots and that was something she admired about her.

'And how is…' Anne paused, she knew her official title was the dowager Princess, but it just seemed awkward and strange to say it out loud... 'The lady?' she finished.

'Quiet, she hasn't eaten, I told her I would get her something else if it wasn't suitable but she didn't reply,' Madge replied.

Anne merely nodded and waved her hand dismissing her ladies to the side to wait for her, and made her way into the spacious chamber she had given to Katherine. It wasn't as grand as hers, nor was it as grand as some of the favoured courtiers here, but it was clean and dry, and spacious and better than her accommodations in the Moor.

She found Katherine in the window seat with a Latin bible in her lap. She had changed her clothes into a plain dress, but that was all, her hair was limp and hung about her face and she gazed solemnly out the window. Anne could understand her pain, she supposed, she had almost lost her beloved son, and now her once enemy had lost her only child. She felt pity for the woman, but only so much, she had raised that girl to the monster she had become, she was partly responsible for the death of her father and her treasured Arabella who she had known for such a short time.

'My lady?' Anne stated making her presence known.

Katherine started, and turned to look at her replacement. Anne was resplendent in a blue gown with matching jewels. She recognised the necklace around her neck as the one Henry had given her when she was still a maid. She had pulled it from her neck and called her a whore, confident that Henry would forget her. That he would tire of her. She had been so confident. Now here Anne was with a crown on her head, a boy in the royal nursery and Henry's love evident in her every move.

Reluctantly she rose and curtsied slightly.

'Your majesty,' Katherine muttered.

Anne smiled slightly wondering how it must pain the woman before her to speak those words. Part of her wanted to torture her with the knowledge of her achievement, to boast her success over her failure. But she didn't, she was stronger than that.

'I hope your chamber is too your liking?' Anne asked.

'Yes Madam perfectly so,' Katherine replied.

'You look tired, sit down,' Anne said motioning to the seat she had stood from.

Katherine did with a sigh and her gaze turned to the window again. Somewhere out there was her child. Her child who was missing, who had committed such wrongs. Part of her wanted to believe that Anne was lying, that this was an awful joke. But she had seen the mutinous stares from the courtiers, and her arrival here was hardly celebrated. Anne had no reason to lie. All she wanted was to talk to Mary. If henry hadn't forbid they contact each other perhaps none of this would have happened. She would have told her to have faith in God, and to believe that one day everything would be well. But Henry had been spiteful and childish and had forbidden their contact. She could hardly blame her daughter for acting out, but to plan murder? It just didn't seem like the sweet girl she had raised.

'How is your son?' Katherine asked.

Anne was taken aback by the question, she didn't think Katherine could bring herself to openly acknowledge Thomas never mind ask about him.

'He is well, he is loved,' Anne replied.

'It must be nice to know that your child is well and that all is well with him,' Katherine said.

'But all is _not_ well,' Anne snapped, 'he was almost never born, he has now only just heard his mother's voice, his grandfather is dead, and he did not have the entry into this world that was his right.'

'No I suppose not,' Katherine replied.

'Are you not going to even apologise?' Anne asked.

Katherine finally turned to look at her with a straight face.

'Apologise for Mary, for my daughter who I haven't spoken to in years, apologise for her actions when I could not stop her?' Katherine asked.

'No daughter of mine would be raised to think that it was acceptable to kill a woman pregnant with a child,' Anne replied.

'We do not know what has occurred until we speak to Mary, it was not her who had the rope around your neck,' Katherine replied.

Anne started at the mention of the brutality she had suffered and raised a hand to finger the still visible bruises that littered her neck.

'I have never believed that the executioner that swings the axe or lights the pier is the murderer, it is the one that gives the sentence,' Anne replied.

'Clever words, but we have no evidence that it was Mary who passed that judgment,' Katherine replied.

'She is nowhere to be found,' Anne replied.

'And neither is the Spanish ambassador, perhaps she was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time,' Katherine replied.

'I don't believe that, your daughter hated me,' Anne replied.

'You hated her back,' Katherine shot back.

'I could never hate a child,' Anne returned.

'Maybe not a child, but a legitimate daughter of Henry the eighth, a Princess of England, to stand between your son and the throne?... that child you would hate,' Katherine said knowingly, no matter what Anne professed she knew that she had no love or sympathy for her daughter.

'We both know Mary is not legitimate, the whole of England knows this,' Anne said back, irked by the mention that she still believed Mary to be a legitimate Princess of England.

Katherine scoffed and stood up, this woman had always been able to raise her ire, 'just because Henry says it doesn't mean it is true.'

'You should refer to his majesty with his title, _you_ have no right to be so informal,' Anne replied her anger rising.

'He is my husband, I can call him as I wish,' Katherine replied.

'You have no standing to make such a claim, you yourself admitted to him that you were no virgin, how exactly was your marriage legal? How was your daughter legitimate?'

'The pope gave us a dispensation.'

'He was wrong to do so.'

Katherine stepped forwards now almost eye to eye with her nemesis. her old fire and confidence suddenly returning to her.

'The very reason you give for annulling our marriage could be said about yours, don't think I don't know about Henry and your whore of a sister.'

Anne flinched knowing she had a point, but persevered.

'Henry is the head of the Church of England, his word is God's word in this country, the whole of England believes your marriage to be invalid, and the whole of England is behind _me_ and _my son_. I was an honest maiden when he took me, unlike you, _our_ marriage is legal and binding…' Anne said.

Katherine merely smirked back knowing she had angered the young woman in suggesting otherwise.

Anne stepped forwards and closed the remaining distance.

'And what's more, Henry _loves_ me, he is _devoted_ to me, I could give him as many dead useless children as you did, and he would _still_ love me, he would never replace me, London would melt into the Thames first.' Anne said with a fierce snarl.

Katherine flinched back from the hurt that arose from the comment about her many children. Part of her wanted to believe that if Anne hadn't born Henry any children, he would have tired of her too. But as she looked into Anne's eyes which were glazed with passion, she knew that Anne fully believed her words, down to her bones. Katherine had never had that much confidence in Henry's love for her. Even in the early days of their marriage when she had basked in Henry's supposed love, he had strayed, had taken mistresses. In comparison, the whole of England knew that Henry had waited years for Anne, and that he was devoted to her.

Anne forced herself to calm down, this hadn't been why she had come here. She had not come here to trade blows like children. Or to claim that her horse was bigger. She was a Queen, and she should act like it, but Katherine had always managed to frustrate and anger her.

Katherine sighed knowing she was defeated once more.

'What is to happen to me?' Katherine asked.

'For now? Nothing,' Anne said.

'Am I to be a prisoner here?' Katherine asked.

'You are welcome to leave your rooms at any time you please,' Anne replied.

Katherine smirked, she knew that she would be watched and followed wherever she went, she also had seen the glares sent her way from the courtiers here, and she would not go to court and have people humiliate her more than she already was. Even though she was free to leave, she was still a prisoner.

'How long am I to remain here?' Katherine asked.

'Until your daughter is found,' Anne replied, 'hopefully she will attempt some form of correspondence with you, and we can locate her that way.'

'So I am to be the bait,' Katherine stated.

'Are you so against it, if it brings your daughter home?'

'To what? The executioners axe?' Katherine replied.

'Not if she is innocent, I can promise you that she will have a fair trial, I swear it on my son's life,' Anne said solemnly.

Katherine looked at her in shock knowing that she was being truthful, she would never risk her son.

'But I think the real reason you are afraid, is that because you think she is guilty, you know deep down she is guilty and that if she is found, there is nothing you can do that will save her,' Anne said.

Katherine swallowed feeling bile rise up in her throat.

'she is innocent.'

But even to her own ears she sounded doubtful.

'Then you won't mind being the bait then, will you?' Anne smiled knowingly.

Katherine didn't reply and turned back to the window.

'Good day lady Katherine, if you need anything be sure to let a maid know, you are _very very_ welcome here,' Anne smirked.

Anne turned on her heel after this making her exit knowing she had gotten her point across. She regretted the insults they had traded, it was childish and immature, but she had made her point. One way or another Mary would return to England, but she could tell by the fear on Katherine's face, that the once Queen dreaded what would happen if she did…even with the promise of a fair trial.

It was obvious to Anne that Katherine had no confidence in her daughter's innocence.

She was guilty.


	28. Chapter 28

Hello Guys

No I have not abandoned this story, I am just struggling for inspiration.

bare with me!

Thanks

Wizard x


	29. Chapter 29

_"_ _For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you._

 _Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning._

 _Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,_

 _so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"_

 _(Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)_

* * *

The journey to the coast was unpleasant. Mary brooded as she looked out at the rain that was hammering down the side of the carriage. It was not safe to travel in this weather, but they had no choice, her father would not be far behind them.

The thought of him caused her stomach to twist painfully as she considered her actions. She had not been directly involved in the plot to kill the harlot. But she had heard Chapuys, had seen the letters, she had known a plan on her life and her bastard was imminent. She had known, and done nothing, in fact she had silently supported him. And now Brereton had named her. Her father's anger was legendary, and it would follow her.

Now she was fleeing in dangerous conditions with what seemed her only friend in the world helping her. Chapuys had always been on her side, he was loyal and devoted to her, if he said she was in danger, then she believed him. But she struggled to think of her own father actively trying to harm her. He had once called her his pearl, his only heir and treasure. And now he was trying to capture her to interrogate her.

She supposed she did feel some guilt for her actions. Although she did not care for the harlot, the child she carried was of her blood, it was royal blood, and she had tried to extinguish it. But it was also of the witch's blood and that made the child dangerous. Who knew how far the harlot would twist the child's mind. But any violence against a new-born disgusted her, but again she had done nothing and kept silent. She felt guilty, but her actions she decided, were justified.

The carriage lurched suddenly and she gasped flinging a hand out to brace herself.

'I'm sorry Princess,' Chapuys said, grimacing at the awful conditions they were driving in.

'It can't be helped,' Mary replied.

'We will soon reach Dover,' Chapuys tried to reassure her, 'and I have sent word ahead for my man to sort our crossing into France.'

'This man can be trusted?' Mary asked, worried that word would get back to her father.

'He is loyal,' Chapuys assured her.

'What if someone recognises me, and tries to stop me?' Mary asked.

'People only see what they expect to see, they will not see a Princess when we arrive in Dover, and your appearance is not genuinely known to the lower classes.' Chapuys answered.

'Very well,' Mary agreed.

'Be of peace of mind, Princess, we will re-group in Spain, and I am sure you will be back in England very soon.' Chapuys said.

Mary smiled and nodded in reply, but inside her stomach turned again. She was sure she would indeed come back to England one day, but she did not know under what circumstances. She hoped it would be to cheer and applause, as she came back to rescue England from heresy, and her father from the clutches of that harlot. She would restore her parents' marriage, and in time she would be a beloved Queen.

But, She feared that it would only be through war that she would return, that blood would need to be shed in order to bring god's will to her home country. That her father couldn't be rescued from that woman, and that the child, her own flesh and blood would be her enemy.

She shuddered to think of it, and forced herself to think of other things.

* * *

Anne was in her chambers waiting to hear news from Henry, his best riders were currently racing through England trying to track down the missing traitors. She knew though, in her heart that they were too late. Undoubtedly Mary and Chapuys were on their way to Spain, with news of her new-born child, ready to tell the Emperor. A child who was not catholic, a child who would one day sit on the throne of England and unite it's people and lead England to a golden age.

She knew Charles feared an openly protestant England. He was the holy roman emperor, favoured by the Pope and deeply devout. He knew that a free England, free of Rome's control was dangerous. For England could make her own rules, control their finances better, and make their own decisions, without Rome's constant influence. She knew he would do everything in his power to stop England heading on that road, and the simplest way to stop it was to promote Mary as Henry's rightful heir.

She knew that there still was some people who were sympathetic to Mary and Katherine, although she hoped that those numbers would soon dwindle, after the assassination attempt on her and her unborn child. However, she needed to secure Thomas's succession, and the best way to do that would be to give him a brother, someone to succeed him. She knew it was too early to consider having another child, with Thomas barely a few weeks old. But she feared what would happen if Spain turned to War, if Charles decided that the only way to secure the English throne was to forcefully put Mary on the throne. A girl who had his own blood, Spanish blood running through her veins, who was deeply devout and loyal to him and to the pope.

Anne knew the best way to prevent this would be to put as many of her own children between Mary and the throne as possible.

That wasn't what Anne wanted though. Both she and Henry wanted a _family_ , not just bodies to fill a royal nursey. But a family, that was filled with love and happiness. A family that looked out for each other and wasn't constantly trying to better the others. Being Queen shouldn't prevent her having that. And nor should Henry be denied the right to lovingly raise Thomas, to teach him to ride, and how to shoot his first arrow, and the beginnings of politics, all because he was too focused on keeping Mary from the throne.

Anne sighed and rubbed her head, and walked towards her vanity set, to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. The marks on her neck had faded now, but she still feared being left alone for any length of time. Even now her sister Mary sat in the corner working on clothes for Thomas. She had guards outside her room, that were changed regularly, and George or Anthony stopped by when Henry couldn't, to check in on her. Not for their sakes, but to reassure her that she was not alone.

At night Henry was with her and there was nowhere she felt safer than in Henry's arms.

'My love?'

Anne started at the noise, and turned to see Henry in the doorway to her chamber with a hesitant and tired smile on his face. Thomas was in his arms, sleeping quietly and Henry rocked him gently.

Anne smiled at the picture they made, Henry was a devoted father and doted on Thomas, and often spent much of his time with him in his arms. He constantly questioned the nurses on his health and behaviour and when out of his or Anne's arms, his eyes would follow him around the room.

Anne didn't comment on his cautiousness, Henry had experienced more than his fair share of child deaths and heartbreak. And given Thomas's dangerous entry into the world it was no wonder that he was overprotective.

Anne walked over and kissed her son's forehead and murmured his name, smiling as he gurgled softly in his sleep.

'He's so perfect,' Henry whispered to her.

'How could he not be, when he was created out of our love?' Anne replied.

'I love you so much Anne,' Henry replied and bent slightly over Thomas to kiss her cheek.

'And I you,' Anne said, 'Is there any news on Mary?'

'No, Cromwell's spies and men at the docks says she is probably on her way to Spain by now,' Henry replied frowning slightly.

Anne sighed and turned away to sit on the bed and ran a hand through her hair.

'You mustn't worry my love, the further away she is the better,' Henry replied, 'If she comes back, she will be arrested for treason.'

'And what if she comes back with an army?' Anne whispered, her worst fears.

'She wouldn't dare,' Henry snapped.

'She might not, but her cousin would,' Anne said.

'If he does, we will deal with it at the time,' Henry walked over to Thomas's crib and set him down. And then sat next to Anne on the bed and put and arm around her shoulders.

'How? We can't defeat Spain Henry,' Anne replied.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Anne that she had no business worrying over such matters as a woman, but he refrained. He reminded himself that Anne was not just any woman, she was intelligent, more so than any other woman he had met, and if he was being honest most men. She was his equal. Of course she had an understanding of strategy and war, and with as much as she had travelled she probably knew that Spain's armies were much vaster than any England could boast.

'On land, no we can't,' Henry replied, and felt his heart skip a beat at the fear in her eyes.

'But, there is a sea between us and the rest of Europe my love, we have the best sailors in the world, and the best ships, they would need allies to get through my navy. And who will ally with them? The emperor makes enemies everywhere. Francis hates him, Italy hate him for his sacking of Rome, and most other countries embrace the new religion, which Spain would never ally with. I am confident, that no army will be coming to England any time soon.'

Anne smiled and felt some of her anxiety lessen, so Mary had fled to Spain, but what Henry said was true. England was unique in that it was cut off from the rest of Europe. Mary would not be able to usurp her son, or start an uprising any time soon.

'I just want him to be safe and happy,' Anne said, 'I never knew what it was to worry until I had a child.'

'He will be Anne, he is the most beloved Prince of England, the people will not stand for Mary taking his place, and neither will I.'

Anne looked into Henry's eyes and saw the devotion that was there, the look of almost obsessive love that he sent her. She vibrated with it, could sense it. She leaned forward and touched her lips to his framing his face with her hands and tugging him towards her so she could kiss him passionately.

She wanted this man, had waited for so long for him, and resisted and refrained for so many years, never fully committing herself to him, despite making Thomas. In the end she was just a girl who was a moth to his flame, her ultimate addiction. He made her angry, he made her rage, he made her cry and laugh, and sigh with exasperation… he made her feel so much.

He made her feel alive.

Henry moaned slightly into the kiss, and returned it fully, loving the way her tongue stroked into his mouth. A virgin Anne may have been when he took her in the woods, but he was certain she was no stranger to kissing. Part of him wanted to find the man who had taught her and murder him, but yet he couldn't deny that she was exceptionally talented at it.

He had always thought kissing was just something in order to get things moving and then to quickly move onto the more exciting sexual acts, but with Anne, the way she grasped at him, and sucked on his lips, and explored his mouth, made his body throb, made his heart skip a beat and his skin tingle.

Thomas's cry broke the moment and Anne pulled away from Henry with a small giggle.

'On second thoughts, perhaps he is not so perfect,' Henry laughed.

Anne smiled then sobered as passion still lingered in her blood. She didn't want to wait anymore.

'Come to my bed tonight,' Anne whispered to him.

Henry paused and looked at her.

'I always come to your bed at night.'

'No, come properly, no barriers, no restraint, just me and you, as it should have been so many years ago.'

Henry felt a thrill shoot through him, other than that glorious encounter in the woods he and Anne had not consummated their marriage properly. He had yet to fully engage in the act and fully insert his seed into her. He had longed to do so, to have a full sex life with his wife. He was sure he was the only man on earth who didn't enjoy sex with his wife. But their circumstances had hardly been normal.

'Are you sure my love?' He asked. Wanting to make sure she was healthy and fully committed, he would not have this be something Anne would come to regret.

'I'm sure,' Anne replied.

* * *

 **Let me know how explicit you want Anne and Henry's final consummation to be.**

 **I was going to make a full chapter of it, but If that's not everyone's cup of tea, then just let me know.**

 **Wizard x**


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